


Schitt's Creek High

by paleredheadinascifi



Series: Schitt's Creek High [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Coming Out, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, High School, Light Angst, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Burn, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-09-29 17:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20439809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paleredheadinascifi/pseuds/paleredheadinascifi
Summary: David is the new kid in school – he is (was?) rich, he’s gorgeous, and Patrick really hopes he’s into boys.AKA the Rose family empire falls when everyone is 20 years younger, and with a bit of creative liberty, David and Patrick start their love story in front of a locker in Schitt’s Creek High.





	1. I think weird is good

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome! This is my first fic in a while but I am entirely obsessed with this show and these characters. 
> 
> Some notes: This doesn't take place 20 years ago, it's 2019 but everyone is younger. David and Patrick are the same age in this lil nugget of time.
> 
> Sorry for any grammatical mistakes - I tried my very best.

David cannot believe this is happening. There’s so many things that he can’t believe are happening, that he’s not even sure how to process any of them. Firstly, he surely **cannot **believe that he is now a resident of a small town, any small town, let alone a small town called _Schitt’s Creek _of all god damn things.

Second, he doesn’t at all want to believe that what he assumed at first had been some kind of elaborate punishment, or maybe a particularly cruel episode of Punk’d, was actually true – his family had less than $100 to their name and nothing would be changing anytime soon (he had sobbed himself to sleep the night the denial finally wore off, after he saw his own mother with his own eyes purchase moisturizer from the _grocery store_)_._

Third, he refuses to believe that he is being forced to go to Schitt’s Creek High – a _public _school with a cafeteria that probably serves mystery meat on a plastic tray older than he is.

And fourth, he absolutely will not believe that the squawky, unusual blonde lady sitting behind the administration desk, “Wendy”, according to her name tag, just suggested that he go and find his “special first day buddy,” as if he is an actual five-year-old.

_No. _

_Absolutely. _

_The fuck. _

_Not._

If there was one thing David hated more than almost every collective thing happening to his god-forsaken life right now, it was the idea of being paired with some townie he had nothing in common with _(thank god) _and being forced _against his will _to do things like _be nice _and participate in _small talk._

_Ew._

Unfortunately, though, as he was already being shepherded away from the desk by the tiny but awfully strong desk lady, and launched down a hallway horrifically reminiscent of exactly what you’d expect a small town high school hallway to look like, this “special first day buddy” thing was not seeming optional.

In the two minutes it took for David to be physically pushed from the administration office to the locker of his _special __buddy _David had already started mentally ticking off the small town high school clichés they were passing –

  * Way too many banners and flyers for some school football team David will never care about but is for some reason the shining beacon of the school – check 
  * _More than one person _wearing actual cowboy boots – shudder and check
  * A poster for a movie night at the “town general store/movie rental store/dry cleaning store – check and also _ew_
  * The cutest boy David had maybe ever seen, leaning against a locker – oh. OH. Okay.  


This was new.

David wasn’t expecting THIS.

_This _was all curly brown hair framing a painfully understatedly handsome face – complete with a button nose and _oh _very kissable lips and _OHKAY – _they had stopped directly in front of the locker that the cutest boy David had maybe ever seen was leaning against, and the cutest boy David had maybe ever seen was looking at him with the kindest, warmest, deepest brown eyes and _smiling _in a way that, for maybe only a fraction of a second, made David forget that anything was ever wrong and _oh._

_ Oh._

The very kissable lips were moving, he was saying something, David assumed, as he felt a pat on the back and vaguely understood that Wendy was walking away as another hand from another direction – in front of him, _ohmygod it’s the boy’s hand _– was being held out right in front of David’s and his brain clicks into place about a second before standing there like an idiot would maybe have started to cause concern. David raised his arm to shake the boy’s hand – _soft, strong, firm – _before the boy pulled his hand back away with a smirk.

“I’d ask you what your name is again, but if we stand here any longer we’re gonna miss roll call, and I already know what it is anyway,” the boy said.

“Oh, well aren’t you clever,” David retorted, because honestly, he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do in a situation like this.

“Hmm”, the boy, who David is guessing shared his name with him in that _brief _moment of hearing loss he suffered earlier, hummed. “Well, _David_, you are I are both lucky members of Mrs Currie’s homeroom, where pretty much anything goes and the chances of her showing up before first period are about 50/50,” he pushed off the locker and started heading down the hall, looking back to indicate that David should be following.

He was.

“She’s pretty nice though, a bit weird, but I think weird is good,” the boy shrugged. “To an extent, though, I guess, cause her husband, Bob, he’s the town mechanic, he’s like a different kind of weird where you just are left feeling very unsettled after talking to him, which you probably will end up talking to him cause he’s here all the time. Which now that I think about it, is also pretty weird.”

The boy had been rambling as they passed another few rows of lockers and a handful of classrooms that were filling up with students. David was _trying_to _try_and pay attention to the path they were taking to get to their room, but it was genuinely just very _difficult _with this adorable rambling boy right next to him.

“Huh,” was about all that David managed in response to all of that.

“Yeah, well anyway, this is us,” the boy said as he gestured to the classroom right at the end of the hallway before heading inside.

David followed him through the door, taking in the tacky colorful décor stuck to the walls and the plastic chairs that already had his back aching. “Well this is…something,” he noted quietly.

“Oh yeah,” the boy agreed, again with a smirk, “only the very best for the students of Schitt’s Creek High.”

The boy threw the backpack David had somehow just noticed he’d had slung over his shoulder under a desk in the middle of the room and sunk into the plastic chair that was tucked into it. David hovered awkwardly near the side of the room until the boy pulled out the chair next to his with his foot and waved his hand towards the desk. “The desks don’t bite, David,” he smiled with a glint in his eye that made David slightly annoyed and slightly turned on all at once.

Sighing, David sat at the desk opposite the boy and took in more of the room. The room was bigger than he’d expected, but certainly not huge – there were maybe 15 desks and chairs neatly organised into rows in front of a whiteboard and the teacher’s desk. On the desk David could see a “World’s #1 Teacher” mug and an apple that was a few weeks past its prime, he rolled his eyes at the stereotype because _of course_that’s what’s on the desk. 

“Hey man!” someone suddenly yelled from behind him. It was a young blonde boy, he might have been around the same age as he was, but he had an innocent face that made him instantly seem younger. He was smiling and waving at the boy next to him, but he kept flicking his eyes to David with a welcoming smile.

“Hey Ted,” the boy, David’s _Buddy_, had smiled in response, “this is David Rose, it’s his first day at Schitt’s High,” he said with a gesture in David’s general direction.

“Oh wow! Welcome buddy!” Ted’s smile had somehow gotten even bigger and more genuine than it had been before, “I’m Ted, short for Theodore, but you can just call me Ted,” he said and stuck his hand out for David to shake.

_Okay__what is it with teenagers and handshakes in this town_, David thought as he shook the smaller boy’s hand.

“You must be so glad you got Patrick here as your buddy, the poor new kid from last year got paired with Mutt – Oh! You probably don’t know who that is! Mutt is the mayor’s son but he hates the government and authority and pretty much just any rules in general, which really makes you wonder why they’d pick _him _as a buddy, but hey, he’s not a bad guy really.” Ted explained all of this with an aura of joy that was exhausting David with every passing second, but he made sure not to miss the name of the cute boy next to him this time – _Patrick – _that’s what Ted had said.

_Patrick. _

_Pat-rick._

_Mmm. It suited him, he thought._

“But anyway,” Ted was somehow still talking, “so Mutt didn’t even bother taking the new kid to homeroom on his first day and instead took him to the sports shed to smoke weed, and the janitor found them and it was like this whole thing, and the kid just never came back. Any-who, I’m glad you’ve got Patrick, he’ll take good care of you, wontcha Brewer?” Ted said gleefully, nodding in Patrick’s direction.

“Mmhm,” Patrick nodded, “I can promise I won’t be supplying you with drugs on your first day at the very least,” he joked with that goddamn smirk.

“Well that’s a real shame,” David sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Patrick’s eyes darted to it, for just a brief moment, but David saw it, and made sure to note that down under “interesting things to overthink later”.

* * *

A few exhausting hours later, David found himself with a predictably disgusting selection of beige coloured sludge, a juice box, an apple and a small bag of chips perched on top of a predictably disgusting plastic food tray in the middle of the cafeteria.

“David! Over here!” He heard a voice call from one of the tables off to the side, he looked around to find Ted from homeroom smiling and waving at him to come and join the table. 

Sitting next to him were two pretty brunette girls, one smiling over in David’s direction as well, and one scowling at her phone, as well as a sweet-faced redheaded girl, and one offensively handsome Patrick Brewer.

Patrick looked up as David made his way over to the table, and smiled when David slid his _(disgusting)_tray of food onto the space beside him, and swung his legs over the seat to join them at the table.

“Overcoming our fear of tables that might bite, I see David,” Patrick quipped in his direction.

“Yes, it’s just that I’m not used to having to touch furniture that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in 30 years, but it’s, you know, it’s _fine,_” David said with a grimace as he pushed the food tray even further away from him with the very tips of his fingers.

“David!” Ted called from the end of the table, “this is Twyla,” he said pointing towards the smiling brunette with the kind eyes and gentle smile, “this is Stevie,” he pointed at the brunette next to her, who didn’t actually look up from her phone, “Rachel,” he gestured at the redheaded girl next to Patrick, “and you know Patrick! And me. Ted. In case you forgot,” Ted finished with what David was starting to guess was one of his signature smiles.

There was a small chorus of “hey!”, “hi” and “hello!” from the girls before they turned back to their conversations and phone-scowling.

“So, how’s your big first day going, _buddy_?” Patrick asked, nudging him with his elbow on the entirely unnecessary _buddy_.

“Oh you know, I’m having just the best time showing up in the middle of the school year where I’m somehow already 5 weeks behind in every subject, and the teachers are looking at me like I’m a different species because, according to your gym teacher, _they’re just not used to seeing a boy in skirt_,” David emphasised with air quotes. “Which I would just like to again clarify, I am not _wearing _a skirt, these are $2000 pants and I can’t help it if regional townie education professionals don’t understand fashion.”

That _smirk _had appeared on Patrick’s face again, alerting David to the fact that he was finding all of this very amusing. “OH and ALSO what is with this school and the _hand shakes?? _I have never in my life had to shake hands with so many people, and my dad was the CEO of an entire company,” David finished with a very emotive face journey.

“Wow, David,” Patrick laughed, “this all sounds very difficult, do you think you’re gonna make it through the day?” he teased.

David rolled his eyes,_this kid is either very impatient or extremely sure of himself, _he thought.“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m gonna make it, but probably not considering the maths quiz that’s happening tomorrow, the content of which I haven’t a clue.”

Rachel was tapping Patrick on the shoulder, trying to get his attention to show him something on her phone. David was secretly a little bit pleased when Patrick glanced at the phone, gave a distracted hum and turned back to David.

“Well hey, at least I kept my word and kept you away from drug dealers in sports sheds, there’s always that to be thankful for?” Patrick suggested with that ever-present, delicious smirk of his, “But as for the maths quiz, I’m kind of a numbers guy, so I’d be more than happy to help you go over everything after school?” the cute and apparently smart as well Patrick offered with a softer smile.

_Oh._

_Although he had just thrown his anxiety about the math quiz into his complaints to add to the ~drama~, he was actually really, very anxious about it, and it seemed that somehow, Patrick, who had known David for less than half a day, had already figured that out._

“Oh.” David wasn’t sure what the catch was, and he was trying to figure it out. “Um, that’s very nice of you, but you don’t have to do that, I’m sure you have better things to do,” David tried, but he was pretty sure his face was going on a different “journey”, as Alexis would call it, that was giving the game away.

“Nope! I have theatre on Wednesdays and baseball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so Monday is spectacularly free for last-minute emergency buddy tutoring,” Patrick actually _winked _at him and he thought he might pass out for a second there. “Come on David, it’s really fine, I’m more than happy to. In fact, I _want _to. I’ve been considering getting a tutoring side-gig off the ground, and you can be my trial run. All I’ll need from you is a wonderfully glowing written review and we’ll call it even.”

Although Patrick was probably (hopefully?) joking at the end there, there was no hint of that smirk David was growing awfully fond of, instead it had been replaced by a small, softer smile that David could feel physically breaking down the concrete enforced walls he’d built up around his heart.

“Okay, well, if you insist, then yes. Sure. Thank you.” David tried to return a sincere smile, but he was very concerned his face might be screaming I THINK I MIGHT BE FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU EVEN THOUGHT I MET YOU 4 HOURS AGO AND YOU’RE LIKELY VERY STRAIGHT, so he settled with whatever version of a smile he could muster.

“Great!” Patrick stood up suddenly with his enthusiastic reply, making David jump, “we don’t have a library or anything, but my parents won’t be home til late, so it should be quiet enough at mine to get some good study done. I have to go warm-up for band practice, but I’ll text you the details,” Patrick said as he climbed out from the seat and gathered his (horrifically) empty food tray and garbage scraps.

_His house, no parents, his house, no parents, his house, no parents. No no no, David. He is just a nice straight boy. Nice, nice, nice. Straight, straight, straight. DON’T RUIN THIS. _

“Uh, um, okay, yeah, yes,” David managed to get out, “uh but, wait, you don’t have my number!” he called as Patrick turned and walked towards the trash.

Patrick flicked a look back at David, and _oh hello, _the smirk was back.

“Don’t I?” Patrick asked, feigning innocence, and bowling David over with the SECOND wink of the day as he watched him walk out the cafeteria doors, and _maybe _taking a moment to appreciate the view as he did so.

David’s train of thought was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. He took his phone out to see a message from “Maybe: Patrick” as his phone buzzed again two more times.

**12:38: Hey it’s Patrick**

**12:39: Looks like I do have your number, weird.**

**12:39: p.s. sorry if this is creepy**

David couldn’t help the smile that forced its way onto his face. He tapped out a quick reply.

** _12:40: Look, I’ll let it slide._ **

** _12:40: It’s a little weird_ **

** _12:41: But I think weird is good._ **

Maybe Schitt’s Creek High wasn’t going to be so schitty after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought/if you'd be interested in reading more. Thanks for reading! x


	2. Hurt so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick’s take on the new kid at Schitt’s Creek High. There’s maths, studying and some words tumbling out of Patrick’s mouth that he really didn’t mean to ask.

Patrick’s final class on a Monday is always Math with Mrs Schitt, which is part of why Patrick really likes Monday afternoons. Mrs Schitt is bright and bubbly and much younger than most of the other grey and aging math teachers he’d had in the past, and she likes to keep math fun.

To Patrick, though, all math is pretty fun. He likes the objectivity of it. There’s no ifs, buts or maybes, there’s a right answer and a clear path to getting to it, and if you understand the rules, you can always get to the right solution. He likes art and English, too, but he always finds himself discouraged when his grade doesn’t reflect the effort he put in.

Today Patrick is especially happy to have math, because he has a plan to talk to Mrs Schitt about some possible resources for his first tutoring session this afternoon with David.

Patrick is weirdly excited, and he’s a little disappointed in himself that that excitement is less about finally getting this tutoring idea off the ground, and more about, well, David.

The whole town had been abuzz about the new, fancy family moving to town. There’d always been this mystery shrouding the distant, rich family who owned the town but had never actually set foot in it. Patrick had thought it odd, from a business standpoint (another of his favourite subjects) that someone with as much experience and success in the business sector as Johnny Rose would invest in a town like Schitt’s Creek. Honestly ‘invest’ might be too strong of a word… flushed money down the toilet in exchange for the deed to the town?

Yes, that seems more accurate.

So when news broke that the mystical, mythical Rose family were _moving _to Schitt’s Creek, it was the talk of the town for weeks. Patrick had never really paid much attention to them before, but figured a quick google might give him some insight into any business motivations Mr Rose might have had to move the family all the way to Schitt’s Creek.

He’d found a number of TMZ articles speculating about money problems within the family – one reported that they’d lost their house to repossession, another had a “close personal source” suggesting that they’d all joined the church of scientology and were moving to LA to be closer to Tom Cruise. There were a few posed photos of the family – Johnny Rose smiling proudly next to his wife, Moira, who was leaning dramatically over a grand piano whilst their two children, a stunning young girl with long blonde hair, Alexis, and an equally as beautiful, older boy with dark hair and impressive eyebrows, David, sulked on the piano stool. 

According to Wikipedia, David was the same age as he was. That had meant that if David was planning on attending Schitt’s Creek High there was a good chance he’d turn up in most of his classes. Patrick had thought that alone was justification enough to dig a little deeper into that particular member of the family… and obviously for no reason other than that.

He’d pulled up a few articles about a fashion line David had helped his mother design, there was a particularly amusing video of David and Moira performing some Christmas-themed number with some questionable hair choices, as well as a few paparazzi style snapshots of David out on the streets with some other very rich looking teens whose names were seemingly supposed to mean something to Patrick.

Overall, David had seemed like a sweet guy. He clearly loved his mother (that Christmas number is the kind of thing you can’t un-see), and judging by a sweet picture of David wrapping his very cold looking little sister in his scarf and coat during the Rockefeller tree lighting Patrick had come across, he was also an excellent big brother. And although Patrick didn’t really _do _fashion, even he could tell the range David had a hand in designing was as beautiful and unique as David was. Which was, um, somewhat of a revelation to himself when he heard the words pass through his thoughts.

It wasn’t news to Patrick that he sometimes thought of men as beautiful. He’d figured out a few years ago that, okay, he probably wasn’t _straight_, but he surely wasn’t gay. He could make it work with either gender, and so he’d just choose to only date girls, to keep things easier. It was a side of himself he was fine with, but it didn’t really need exploring, and it certainly wasn’t anyone else’s business, he’d decided.

So when Wendy had tracked Patrick down the Friday before, and told him he’d been assigned as the buddy to the new kid who was starting on Monday, he can’t say he was surprised by the butterflies that set up shop in his belly for the weekend. Wendy had sent him an email with some details about his future buddy by Friday afternoon – his name, his class schedule, his locker number and his phone number – confirming to Patrick that this new kid, his _buddy_, was indeed one Mr David Rose.

Sure, David might be rich and gorgeous, but Patrick hadn’t seen this becoming a problem. He might have had a tiny crush on the idea of the boy, but he had been certain that when they met in person on the Monday, there’d be nothing there but maybe the type of friendship where they smile at each other in the hall and chat about their weekend plans during homeroom.

But, um, it turns out, you see, that as Patrick had looked up from where he was waiting against his locker this morning to see David Rose, in the flesh, walking towards him, and when David Rose had locked eyes with him, and _oh boy _when David Rose spent _multiple _long ass seconds staring at Patrick’s lips, Patrick was already so far gone on this boy that it wasn’t even funny.

_Fuck._

So much for keeping that _so maybe I’m not entirely straight _card to himself. He had a feeling that no matter what he did from here on out, all paths were going to lead him right back to David.

Which, okay, he might have chosen one of the more direct-to-David paths by inviting him over to his house 4 hours after he’d actually first met him in person, but in his own defence, David is kind of everything Patrick never knew he needed.

He is (was?) rich, he’s gorgeous, and Patrick really hopes he’s into boys, his own oncoming sexuality crises be damned.

* * *

It was 5.30pm and Patrick and David were sitting on his living room floor, huddled over the coffee table which was unceremoniously strewn with worksheets and textbooks. David had only arrived about an hour and a half before, standing in Patrick’s doorway all perfect and shy, nervously turning one of the silver rings on his fingers as Patrick had let him inside.

Patrick had watched in amusement as David gave a valiant effort to trying to come up with a compliment for his small but homely house, finally coming out with “It’s um, no it’s, you know, it’s very _small town chic,” _Patrick had only just caught the shade of red that rose on the other boy’s face before David turned away towards the kitchen.

After they’d sorted out study snacks (David had assured him this was an absolutely essential step for a successful tutoring business), it had taken all of Patrick’s negotiation skills to actually get textbooks open and numbers being punched into calculators, but they were here and it was happening. He could tell David was nervous, he wasn’t sure if it was because he was in a house he didn’t know with a kid he barely knew, or if he was just that worried about the math itself, but Patrick was pleasantly surprised by how quickly David was picking up the different equations.

“So you came from a private school, then?” Patrick asked, immediately regretting being the one to distract them first as David seemed to jump at the opportunity to throw his pencil down and turn more towards Patrick.

“Uh, yeah. And I thought we hadn’t gone over any of this stuff,” David said, gestating wildly at the mess on the table in front of them, “but I think they just had a different way of explaining it. So, thank you, for um, you know, this. For helping. It’s um, already, um, helping. I guess,” the pink tinge had returned to David’s cheeks as he shrugged the sincerity of his words away like they were causing him physical pain.

“Anytime, David. I’m actually having fun! I enjoy numbers and math, and uh, getting to know you a little has been great too,” Patrick felt like he needed to return the sincerity somehow, and the smile that appeared in David’s eyes confirmed that was what he had needed to hear. “I still can’t believe you’ve never had pizza from Dominos, though, I think I could’ve gone my whole life without hearing something so tragic,” Patrick kind of joked but kind of didn’t ‘cause, _seriously._

“Oh my god, okay, _again_, it’s not like I’ve never had pizza, I’ve had _plenty _of pizza, like, way too much pizza, I’ve just never had the occasion to dine at such a, uh, _untraditional_, pizza establishment,” David repeated for maybe the fourth time that afternoon.

Patrick could tell David was feeling far more confident with the equations for the quiz tomorrow than he was when he arrived, and he was getting hungrier and hungrier every time they spoke about pizza.

“Well do you have to get back home for dinner? Cause otherwise I’m thinking we rectify this travesty right now. What if you get hit by a bus tomorrow and you’ve never had Dominos? I can’t have this kind of blood on my hands,” Patrick said seriously.

“God! Okay! And people call _me _dramatic!” David squawked with hand gestures to match. “But yes, yes please to pizza. And whatever sides you might feel like ordering too. And if it could get here as fast as possible as well, that’d be excellent,” David replied sweetly, already pulling up the menu on his phone.

Patrick laughed at this adorable, perfect, unfairly gorgeous boy who was somehow sitting across from him. He pulled out his phone and opened the ordering app, adding some extras to his saved regular order and shooting a text to his friend and ex-baseball coach, Ray, who owned the closest Dominos in Elmdale. They didn’t technically deliver to Schitt’s Creek, but Ray always sent one of his drivers out the extra few miles when Patrick asked. He was a great guy and a terrible baseball coach.

“Okay, the order is placed, but just to manage your expectations, the nearest store is 45 minutes away so we’re all going to need to practice some patience,” Patrick laughed at the groan David let out in response to that, “BUT it is going to be so worth it. And I happen to have some connections who tend to fast-track my order, so I’m gonna guess we might have pizzas in in our hands in a _tight _55 minutes.”

David was banging his head on the table as though this news was literally ruining his life.

“You’re literally ruining my life,” David whined from where he was face-planted into the table.

_Huh. Well, I guess that’d be why, then. _Patrick thought to himself, smirking.

“Ohhh you poor thing, David. I don’t know how you’re gonna cope. So brave,” Patrick teased. David picked his head up from the table just enough to shoot daggers straight at Patrick.

“I’ll have you know that this is technically classified as child abuse, because I haven’t eaten since _breakfast_and before you say it, _no, _the snacks do not count,” David had now slumped back against the foot of the couch, his head thrown back onto the seat, seeming to resign himself to the fact he was just going to have to wait.

“Maybe if you ate the perfectly good lunch that was at one-point right in front of you, you wouldn’t be fading away to nothing right now. All of this excellent tutoring for nothing, my first client is about to disappear into the air from starvation before he even takes his first quiz,” Patrick sighed, pushing away from the table a bit to cross his legs and lean back on his arms, eyeing the line of David’s jaw, watching the dance of his face closely as he finished throwing this very entertaining tantrum.

“I don’t even know how to begin to explain how incorrect that _substance _is you apparently call lunch,” David replied with a grimace, finally sitting up to look at Patrick. “Okay, fine. If I have to wait, I get to ask you questions to kill the time,” he demanded more than said.

A small smile was tugging at Patrick’s lips, and he couldn’t be sure, but he thought maybe David’s eyes flew back to them for the briefest of seconds before meeting his eyes again with a playful smile.

“Okay, shoot. But I get to ask questions, too,” Patrick agreed.

He wasn’t really sure where David was going with this. Was he looking for some inside info about the town? Did he want to know where all the cool kinds of kids he is used to hanging out with go after school? He didn’t really mind either way, but he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to get another peek behind the curtain of David Rose.

“Deal,” David nodded. “Question number one: favorite film? Bonus points if it features a Julia, Jennifer, Sandra or Reese,” David asked with a completely straight face.

_Oh. Or, a third option Patrick hadn’t considered, David just want to know more about **him**._

Patrick let out a laugh a little too joyful to be just in response to the question, and definitely didn’t miss the way the side of David’s mouth twisted into a concealed grin and his eyes shone in response to his giggling. “I didn’t realise there was a point system when it came to favorite things,” Patrick giggled again as David rolled his eyes as if to say _obviously_, taking a minute to think of the most accurate answer.

“Well I’m not too picky, I enjoy most things I watch, and I’ll watch just about anything,” Patrick admitted, even though it seemed like something that would get him points deducted, “but gun to my head I guess I’d say maybe _Back to the Future_?” He shrugged.

David blinked slowly and nodded, processing the answer and very possibly tallying Patrick’s score in his head. “Okay,” he said, still nodding. “That is, not _incorrect_, I guess,” David offered, clearly not particularly impressed by the choice.

“Phew, I don’t know what I’d do if it _was _incorrect,” Patrick replied sarcastically. “Okay now my turn,” he said twiddling his fingers together excitedly as he thought of the top question he wanted an answer to.

He took in a deep breath.

“Okay so you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, it’s not really any of my business, but why did you move to Schitt’s Creek?” Patrick asked, feeling a little bad when he saw David’s smile falter just a little.

“No, it’s okay to ask, I know there’s a bunch of rumours and whatever. Most of the rumours are somehow worse than the truth, which is, I don’t know… Comforting? Horrifying? Both?” David laughed, but it was a sad kind of laugh. “No the truth is that my dad’s business manager scammed him and ran away with all our money, turns out he hadn’t been paying our taxes and so we owed the government more than we had, so they took our home and most of our things and whatever was left in the bank,” David sighed. “My dad bought this town for my Birthday a few years ago, you know, as a… um…a…”

He was looking around the room uncomfortably when Patrick offered, “As a joke?” He smiled when David nodded sheepishly, “It’s fine David, the town has a ridiculous name. No one who lives here, except maybe Roland, is going to be offended on behalf of the town, I promise,” Patrick smiled earnestly as David nodded down at his feet.

“Right, so we own the town, as a joke, and the government said there was no, um, value, here really, so they let us keep it. We can live here for next to nothing while my dad finds a way to get our money back, and hopefully sells the town, or whatever” David explained.

Patrick didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way David was looking at the floor when we spoke, or how he could hear the emotion behind his words, trying to break free but not quite getting past the shield David was masterfully holding up around his emotions.

“I’m so sorry, David. That must be really, really hard,” Patrick offered sincerely.

David wasn’t looking anywhere near Patrick anymore, instead giving a small smile in the direction of the wall opposite them, a sadness in his eyes that Patrick wished with everything he had wasn’t there. 

Patrick couldn’t imagine being forced out of the only home he’d ever lived in, let alone not being able to take most of his things with him if he ever did have to leave. He thought about his guitar that used to be his granddad’s, the signed baseball from the first big game he got to go to in person that he kept in a protective case, the albums and albums of photos and awards and flyers from theatre and band performances his mom had kept from over the years. He thought about someone coming in and taking those things away, and his heart broke for David.

“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s whatever,” David sighed.

“No, no it’s not fine, David,” Patrick said, suddenly feeling like it was important David hear this. “It’s a really, really shitty and awful thing to happen to you, and if you ever need _anything_, even if you just need a friend to talk to, or someone to listen to you complain about how shitty this all is, I’m here. And I’m not, um, I’m not going to be going anywhere.”

_You couldn’t drag me away from this boy for a free ticket to see the Blue Jays play_, Patrick thought, unhelpfully.

David actually turned back to look at him this time. There was an expression in his face that Patrick hadn’t seen there before, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“That’s, uh, um,” David cleared his throat, “that is possibly one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me, so… thank you. Again.”

“I mean it.” Patrick nodded.

_And he did._

“Right, well, my turn again!” David seemed to shake off a bit of the gloom that had fallen on the room as he thought up Patrick’s next question. 

“Alright, I’ve got it. That girl from lunch, Anne of Green Gables with the red hair, is she your girlfriend?” David asked, half-distracting himself with those damn rings again.

Patrick went to answer but the words got stuck in his throat on the way out because -- _wait a minute._

_Wait. _

_One. _

_Minute._

_Was David just asking because he’s curious or is he asking because he is **interested **in the answer?_

It was Patrick’s turn to clear his throat.

“Oh um, Rachel?” He asked, continuing when David nodded, “No, not really, actually no, not at all. I mean we make out sometimes, but we haven’t done that in a while. She used to live next door, we like, grew up together. We were those kids who everyone has been joking about us getting married since we were two. So there’s always been this, like, I don’t know…pressure there? Or like an expectation or something. And, don’t tell Rachel I told you this, but it seems like recently she’s been trying to get me to make a real move or whatever, but I just I don’t know. I don’t want to be with someone just because they’re there, or because it’s what other people want. I want to be with someone because the idea of not being with them scares me more than anything else. Who I feel like I could spend every waking second with and never get sick of them, or in the times when they do annoy me, none of it matters ‘cause they just feel so right, like they’ve always been there. And, I guess, Rachel has kind of always been there, like physically always right next door or always right next to me at school, but I’ve never felt _that_with her. Maybe I will, someday, but yeah. I don’t know.” Patrick shrugged, a little embarrassed that all of that had somehow come flooding out of his mouth when he could’ve just gone with _no, she’s not _and been done with it. 

David was smiling, though. A sweet, private kind of smile, like something Patrick had said amused him.

“That is, um, very sweet, actually?” David laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I just, I’m laughing at how much smarter you are than me. Yes, you’re absolutely right. You should wait for all of those things, because trust me, as someone who has always gone for whatever was in front of him, whatever was easiest, I can guarantee you it’s very rarely worth the inevitable pain.”

David still had that _smile _on his face and the butterflies in Patrick’s stomach were doing somersaults. “Honestly, some of the people I’ve been with, I even shock myself with how low my standards have been at _various _points in my life.” He was laughing about that as if it was funny, which Patrick didn’t think it was.

He would probably have been more concerned about convincing David that he deserves to have nothing but the highest standards if his brain hadn’t short-circuited at _people I’ve been with._

_People._

_Girls are people, sure, but wouldn’t you say girls if you meant girls? _Patrick’s brain was trying to find the equation that made this all make perfect sense but he was coming up dry.

_People._

_Fuck._

“Um, uh, _people _you’ve been with?” were somehow the words that just came out of Patrick’s mouth.

_Oh good lord. _

“NOT that I care, or um, mind, I mean, I think, _everything_, is great and love is love and, you know, I just, uh, was wondering, I guess, if that meant you are, um, into, um...” Patrick mumbled to the ceiling he was looking at to avoid looking at David.

_OHMYGOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING PATRICK HOLY SHIT?_

David _smirked_. Like, if Patrick thought he had seen David smirk before, he hadn’t. _This _was a smirk that said _I know you didn’t mean to say that and I’m very pleased you did._

“Am I into boys?” David finished for him.

Patrick, mortified, nodded at the ceiling.

“Patrick, it’s fine,” David laughed, “and yes, I _am _into boys.”

Patrick thought his heart had either stopped or it was beating so fast he could no longer feel it.

“But I’m also into girls, and pretty much anyone in between,” David continued. “I’m really just into everyone. Well not, _everyone _everyone, not _anyone_, but gender doesn’t matter to me. It’s about the person more than… anything…you know, anything else.” He explained. 

“Oh,” was all Patrick could say at this particular moment. 

“Yep. Keeping my fingers crossed pretty tight that I make it through my time in this town _without _falling victim to a hate crime, but I’d say the odds are not in my favour.” David said, gesturing around his whole body, stopping at the _not_-a-skirt their gym teacher had pointed out earlier in the day with emphasis.

And maybe it was Patrick finally coming back to his senses, or maybe it was the way his blood pressure suddenly increased as he followed David’s hand over his body with his eyes, but his brain was actually able to form words and then use his mouth to say the words he was thinking. _A ground-breaking feat of communication, _Patrick internally rolled his eyes at himself.

Patrick shook his head at David so hard that he felt a little dizzy, “No. Nuh-uh. No way,” Patrick finally said. “Not happening, David. If anyone in this town, or any other town for that matter, even _thinks _about being an asshole in your direction, you tell me and you’ll have me and Ted and Mutt and _Stevie_, at their door in minutes. And my god, do you not want to be on the receiving end of Stevie’s anger,” Patrick hoped David could tell, despite his joking tone, that he was entirely serious.

_The thought of anyone hurting David… it was too much to think about, even hypothetically, _Patrick thought. His skin was crawling.

That look from before was back on David’s face, staring at Patrick like he was from another planet just for hoping no one hurt David because he loved so freely.

“What?” Patrick finally had to ask.

“No, nothing,” David smiled, “I’m just trying to decide between being shocked that a person as kind as you exists, and being highly amused by the mental image of you knocking on the door of a homophobic townie with your gang of high schooler pals to defend my honour,” David laughed.

Patrick laughed too, “I really don’t think you understand how scary Stevie can be when she wants to be,” and as with everything Patrick had said to David since the moment he met him, he really, truly meant it.

* * *

Things took a lighter turn from there, David asking Patrick about his favorite foods, Patrick defending his love of pineapple on pizza, Patrick having to break it to David that the pizzas currently in transit to their very address were covered in pineapple, David reacting very dramatically to the prospect of eating pineapple on pizza, and so on and so forth.

_This was nice_, Patrick had thought. He’d even thought, very briefly, after he’d watched David lunge at the door when the pizza came, when David was thoughtfully chewing his first bite of Dominos and looking annoyed that he liked it, that this all just felt _right_. That he could see himself doing this over and over and never getting sick of it. Like he couldn’t remember a time when David sitting in the middle of his living room, shovelling pizza down his throat was ever _not _a thing. Like the thought of David ever not being here, with Patrick, made him sick with fear, because _oh._

_Oh._

Patrick was so so far gone on this beautiful boy, the boy who had been through so much pain, the boy with room in his heart to love anybody and everybody, the boy who quietly admitted _pineapple on pizza is maybe not as incorrect as I previously thought, _this boy… _this _boy was wrapping himself around Patrick’s heart like a thorn covered vine, and _oh, did it hurt so good. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's chapter two, woo! 
> 
> I'm really having fun writing this, so I hope someone is having fun reading it, too. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear 'em! x


	3. Tuesday is the baseball day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David gets an A on his quiz, but none of that means anything until he can see Patrick’s face when he tells him about it. But Tuesday is baseball day, and David doesn't know what that means.

David had woken up with an elephant sitting on his chest and butterflies in his stomach. It might have been the impending math quiz or the fact that he was going to have to face Patrick again today and pretend like he wasn’t crushing on the boy harder than any sane person _should _be crushing on someone they literally just met, but either way he just felt like puking.

Yesterday had ended up being _everything_.

He’d smiled and laughed and eaten pizza and had actual fun, and it was all because sweet Patrick had invited a practical stranger over to his house, just because he wanted to help.

And helped he had. David knew, if he told the anxiety monster on his shoulder to shut the fuck up, that he had a pretty good shot at getting a decent grade today. Patrick was an excellent teacher – he had the patience of a saint and a way of explaining things that made David forget why it was ever difficult in the first place.

Patrick had a way of making new, scary things seem easy.

_My GOD _was he crushing on this boy.

He smacked his hand around the bed blindly until he found the phone he knew he’d violently thrown out of his line of sight when the alarm had been harassing his senses 10 minutes prior. It buzzed loudly almost as soon as he touched it.

**Patrick**

**7:11 am: Morning! Don’t forget your calculator! **

David was so thankful Alexis’s middle school starts 30 minutes before the high school, meaning she wasn’t sitting in the bed across from him witnessing his face contort into an embarrassing uncontrollable grin.

** _7:13 am: did you really just text me in the middle of the night about calculators_ **

** _7:13 am: this is going in my review of your tutoring services _ **

** **

**Patrick**

**7:15 am: Some would see it as a bonus, David. Most tutors don’t include a wake up reminder service in the deal. **

_How was Patrick real?? _

**7:15 am:_ oh I see so this is just part of the all-inclusive tutoring package then? _**

**Patrick**

** 7:16: No, so actually don’t mention it or the rest of my non-existent clients will get jealous **

** 7:16: I actually just wanted to remind that you’re going to do great today **

** 7:16: and I wasn’t kidding about the calculator, that’s important **

** 7:17: I GTG, I’ve got band so won’t be @ homeroom **

** 7:17: Knock em dead **

** **

Huh.

That was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

David had been looking forward to seeing Patrick again since the moment he shut Patrick’s front door behind him last night, so this “band” thing is immediately being added to David’s _List of Things That Are Currently Ruining My Life_.

On the other hand, though, it might actually help not to have something as… distracting… as seeing Patrick before the quiz in first period.

David still hadn’t quite recovered from experiencing Flustered Patrick™ last night. The way his whole face had turned red and his voice went up an octave as he’d asked about David’s preferences. It was entirely too adorable, and entirely too much.

David was like, _pretty sure_, Patrick was just asking about it because it’s a thing people seem to want to know. David knows he “seems gay”, he’s been told it a million times in a million different ways, so it was kind of refreshing that Patrick didn’t want to just assume.

And then he’d actually _defended _David and the way Patrick’s jaw had clenched in anger just thinking about someone hurting him had _done things_to David.

It was just… a lot.

Surely if Patrick was also into boys, that would’ve been a great time to mention it. “Oh cool, David. Me too. It’s so nice to have another queer person in town. We should try not to get beat up by small-minded townies together, sometime.” Or you know, whatever. David would’ve been happy with any combination of words that meant he wasn’t imagining the way Patrick’s eyes would drop to his lips when he listened to him talk. He’d take any sort of indication he could get if it meant he wasn’t falling in love with another straight boy like the masochistic idiot he historically was.

But he hadn’t said anything of the sort.

He’d said a lot of sweet things that made David fall even faster, and he’d organized the pizza which made David fall even harder.

And now he was sending him good morning texts and saying _more _sweet and supportive things that are exactly what David needs, and it was… Just. All. Too. Much.

* * *

It was the end of the school day, and the hallway was flooded with people and backpacks and books, and Patrick wasn’t answering his texts and he wasn’t at his locker, and David _needed _to find him right this second.

David had made it through the math quiz feeling fairly unscathed, but math was never his forte, so he had really just been aiming for a passing grade.

So when Mrs Schitt had cornered him in the hall and _hugged (???) _him and told him that she’d just finished marking his quiz and how proud she was of him for getting an _A (!!!)_, all David wanted to do was tell Patrick.

In fact, maybe all David had ever needed in his whole life was to see Patrick’s face when he told him what they’d done, together.

Watching those kind, brown eyes light up with sincere happiness and seeing that _smile _bloom across Patrick’s whole face had become one of David’s favorite pastimes.

But there was one problem, and that was figuring out where exactly one could find Patrick on a Tuesday afternoon.

David remembered he’d said something about doing theatre some afternoons and baseball some others, and it seemed like band practice was never not on.

_Goddamn this talented boy and his goddamn extra-curricular activities. _

“You’re blocking my locker.” Came a very unimpressed voice from… somewhere?

Oh, down there.

One of the brunette girls from Patrick’s group, not Twyla, David knew, because he’d watched with a burning jealously as she’d left lunch with Patrick almost as soon as he’d got there to head off to some lunchtime theatre rehearsal, leaving David to listen to Ted discuss the pros and cons of veterinary school. So, this is Stevie, he thinks.

“Oh, sorry,” David stepped to the side, trying to remember why he’d been standing there in the first place.

“You look like a lost puppy.” Stevie said, squinting at him suspiciously. “_Why _do you look like a lost puppy?”

_Oh my god. _

“Wow, thank you so much.” David had little to no read on this girl, because this was the first time he’d seen her with her face not in her phone. “As you know, I am new here, so I’ve been perpetually lost since I left my 12 bed 8 bath home two weeks ago. As for the puppy thing, I’ve been told I look unbelievably adorable in certain lights, so maybe these flickering fluorescent lights are just really working for me?” He deadpanned. He wasn’t sure, but she seemed like someone who maybe also thought weird was good.

The surprised snort he got in response confirmed that suspicion was correct.

“Oh I see.” Stevie nodded, “So it’s nothing to do with my locker being right next to Patrick’s, and the little puppy love crush you have on him?” She asked with an amused smirk.

_Oh. Fuck. _

David felt his blood turn cold and his whole body itch like his brain was trying to both fight and flight all at once.

“I…Uh…What? Um, no?” Were the words he managed to stutter out.

_Wow. Smooth. _

Stevie was still smirking at him, and _honestly, where does she get the nerve? _

“Right. Well mark me down as convinced.” She teased, finally stepping forward to twist her combination into the lock on her locker.

_Ughhhhhhh._

“Okay, fine, think whatever you want. It’s not a thing. It’d be weird. He’s my tutor, and I am just trying to locate my _tutor _for some _tutoring-related _reasons, so…” David tried, begging his face to play along with the lie.

Stevie sighed, as if actually disappointed by the news, throwing some books into her locker before slamming it shut.

“That’s a shame, really. I liked this for him.” She said, waving her hand around in front of his chest.

And _okay._

_WHAT?_

Before David managed to pick his jaw up from the floor and string words into a sentence, Stevie pulled her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave.

“It’s Tuesday. He’s got baseball on Tuesdays. Try the field.” She smiled, a smaller, less smirk-y, more real, smile, and walked away. Somehow making her the second person in 30 minutes to leave a shell-shocked David standing in the hall.

* * *

It took a startling amount of time to locate “the field” considering the entire town was barely much bigger than a football field itself.

It did turn out though, that there were multiple fields in Schitt’s Creek, and the football field David had found first was not “the field” where the baseball happens.

The baseball happens, according to the sympathetic janitor at the football field, at the ball field, which was not in the school grounds at all.

But none of that matters now, because David is standing to the side of a set of bleachers right out of a charming 80s rom-com, and Patrick is out on the field, clad in a green and white uniform that shouldn’t look good on anyone but, _of course, _looks insanely adorable on Patrick.

It seems like it might be nearing the end of the game. People are excited, and all David can hear is Patrick yelling orders and encouragement at the other green and white clad players.

It’s a different side of Patrick than the Patrick who calmly and patiently explained equations to David yesterday. This Patrick is heated and passionate. He’s got a fire in his eyes and the kind of energy no one should have after a full day of school.

Someone hits the ball with the stick and there’s someone running and the people in the bleachers start yelling things, and David really doesn’t understand this game any more than he did when he was the one standing in the field, but it seems like whatever just happened was good for the green and white team. Patrick is as close to screaming as is probably socially acceptable, but he is really toying with that line, and its honestly kind of hot.

The running dude dives on the thingy and the umpire-man does the hand thing and the crowd erupts with cheers. David can’t take his eyes off Patrick as he jumps up and down with his arms in the air, running towards his other green and white people and hugging them like doing so isn’t causing David’s skin to come alight with jealousy.

Even still, David can’t help but smile at the sight. Patrick looks like a kid in a candy store with a hundred-dollar bill. He’s rallying his team together, leading that cheer thing people do in both sports movies and documentaries about pop-stars in concert where they throw their hands up and all cheer something at the same time.

Both the teams start merging together again, shaking hands like they just did something other than hitting a ball with a stick and running in circles, but whatever. David watches as Patrick makes sure to shake the hand of every person on the other team, that firm grip, the eye contact and the sincere smile making an appearance every time.

_How does this boy exist? _

Patrick turns towards the bleachers, scanning the crowd, his smile growing when he spots a couple grinning back at him from the stands. His parents, David assumes, make their way down the steps and pull him into a hug. His Mom smooching him on the forehead, his Dad giving him a solid pat on the back.

It makes David happy to see that. That Patrick has a family as nice and as sweet and supportive as he is. _Patrick deserves it all._

David watches as Patrick’s Mom hands him his water bottle and his phone. David is trying to assess at what point he should stop standing like a stalker by the bleachers, when Patrick looks down at his phone with that boy-in-a-candy-store smile.

He suddenly looks up and scans the crowd again, finally finding David with a surprised grin. He says something to his parents and runs over.

David can’t remember how to breathe, and it’s going to be really embarrassing when he passes out because of it.

“David!” Patrick laughs, like it’s the greatest thing in the world that David is hovering awkwardly outside his baseball game. He pulls him into a sweaty hug, and if it was anyone else, David would have cared. “What are you doing here?” He asks, eyes so full of wonder that David feels like his answer won’t be enough.

“Hey!” David offers nervously, “Um, sorry if this is weird? Stevie told me where you were and I just really wanted to find you to tell you that Mrs Schitt stopped me in the hall and gave me my quiz result early because I got an A, Patrick! An A! Me! On a math quiz! Because of you! And I just felt like you deserved to know and you weren’t answering my texts, because you were here, obviously, so, uh, here I —” David is cut off by Patrick’s arms pulling him into another hug.

“David! Oh my god, congratulations!” He _feels _Patrick say into his neck. Patrick pulls back, keeping his arms on David’s biceps, and looking right into David’s eyes declares, “I knew you could do it.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you.” David smiles, because it’s true but also because Patrick’s hands are still on his arms.

Patrick _squeezes._“Bullshit.” He says, which _okay _Patrick swearing is a new thing that is very okay with David. “You already knew what you were doing, I just reminded you that you did.” Patrick’s smile is soft and small and honest, and David feels like he could do anything if Patrick told him he could.

“Thank you, Patrick.” David smiles back, and he hopes Patrick can see everything he is trying to say in it.

Patrick shakes his head and laughs, letting go of David’s arms to cross them over his chest. “I should be thanking you! I can see my tutoring flyers now, “100% of my clients get an A!” I’ll have a thriving business by next week!” He giggles, which makes David giggle too.

“Congrats on the game, by the way,” David remembers where they are when a kid walks past dragging the baseball stick along the ground. “I’m gathering from context and the happy jumping that you won?” David tries.

Patrick’s face lights up, a genuine laugh escaping as he shakes his head in disbelief. “We did win, yes, thank you. How long were you here for? I sincerely apologize if you had to witness competitive Patrick, he tends to break out in particularly close games. It’s never my finest moment when he’s around.” He laughs, but David can see he is a little self-conscious about it.

It’s David’s turn to laugh and shake his head. “I thought it was cute.” He says, before hearing what he said, and then wanting to take back what he said immediately because _OH GOD._

Patrick just laughs, but if David hadn’t been so preoccupied with dying inside, he might have also seen that fire in Patrick’s eyes that had been there before was back, and it was being directed right at David.

“What are you doing now?” Patrick asks, looking back to where his parents are waiting on the bottom step of the bleachers.

David takes a deep breath, because if he tried to talk without doing so he’s pretty sure his voice would be shaking.

“Uh, nothing? Homework?” He manages to sound pretty normal, he hopes.

Patrick’s smile somehow gets even bigger as he nods, “Okay. Good. Do you want to do something to celebrate?” He asks, giggling again when David starts nodding before he even finishes the question. “Okay. Good. Good. I just have to go and tell my parents they don’t have to wait for me. I’ll be right back! Don’t go anywhere!” He laughs as he runs back towards his parents.

And David, counting a record-breaking third time that day, is left standing shell-shocked in the town of Schitt’s Creek. And when Patrick turns and points towards him with a grin that could light up the darkest of nights, when Patrick’s Mom waves at David with a small, knowing smile, when Patrick jogs back towards him and drapes his arm over David’s shoulder, David lets himself feel that spark of hope at the base of his stomach. He giggles, and Patrick, with his arm hooked around him, giggles too.

For the first time in weeks, months, years, everything feels like it is exactly how it should be.

“Wait.” David turns to Patrick. “How did you know I was here?” He asks, suddenly remembering the way Patrick searched the crowd, looking for _him. _

Patrick laughs. “Stevie texted me. She told me there was a ‘_lost puppy heading my way for tutoring-related reasons’_” He adds the air quotations for full effect.

David slaps his hand over his face because,_really Stevie!? _

“_Oh my god_.” David whines.

“What?” Patrick laughs. “I thought it was cute.”

And if his obituary has to say he died in Schitt’s Creek, then so be it. Because this – with Patrick’s arm around him, listening to Patrick giggle – was exactly the way he wanted to go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy you guys are having fun with this too! 
> 
> I'm loving hearing what you think, so please do keep it coming!


	4. This feeling has a direct correlation to this person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Patrick hang out behind the bleachers, and, because of course they don't, things don't go exactly to plan.

Generally speaking, Tuesdays were one of Patrick’s favorite days of the week. He gets to start the day off bright and early with band rehearsal before school, and finish it off with a good few hours of baseball.

And Patrick _loves _baseball.

But this Tuesday had felt a little different right from the start. Patrick had woken around 5am and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. All night long his brain had been filled with _David. _

His face.

His voice.

His _laugh_.

God, that laugh had echoed around his head, weaving in and around like the soundtrack to his dreams.

He wasn’t really sure he had slept at all. Whenever he’d opened his eyes throughout the night, David’s _everything _was still on repeat, playing over and over in every way.

It certainly wasn’t a restful sleep, but Patrick wasn’t necessarily _complaining_.

So when he’d remembered it was Tuesday and he had band during homeroom, theatre during lunch and baseball after school, he had just a tiny bit of a sulk to himself about how little he would get to see David.

He’d quietly strummed around with his guitar for a while, ran through his lines for his next theatre audition, and _might _have watched David and his Mom’s Christmas number a few more times. He had done all of this in an effort to distract himself from picking up his phone and calling David, just to hear his voice.

He’d made it all the way to 7 something AM, _and _talked himself down to a text message by the time he physically couldn’t stop himself from contacting David.

David had replied immediately, and Patrick _might _have, very tastefully, with lots of remaining dignity, slightly squealed into his pillow.

* * *

The first time that day he got to lock eyes with the taller, dark haired boy was at lunch, about 30 seconds before Twyla had dragged him out of the cafeteria because they were already running late for rehearsal. Patrick had thrown a glance back over his shoulder as they left, and his heart had skipped multiple beats as David wistfully watched them go.

He hadn’t even had a chance to ask about the quiz in person – Did he feel like he knew most of the answers? Were there any questions they hadn’t planned for? Was Patrick’s help good enough to give this perfect boy the grade he deserved?

All he’d had to go on all day were a few scattered text messages they had been able to send between classes.

**David Rose **

**10:30 am: thank fuck that’s over **

** _10:30 am: Congrats! How did you go? _ **

** **

**David Rose **

**10:35 am: don’t get grades back til tomorrow **

** _10:42 am: I know, I mean how did you feel like you did? _ **

** **

**David Rose **

**11:00 am: * shrugging lady emoji* **

**11:05 am: if i think about it i’ll be downing a whole bag of oreos before lunch **

**12:15 pm: speaking of lunch r u going to be gracing us w ur presence or?? **

**12:30 pm: wow ok **

**12:30 pm: that 5 second cameo u just pulled does not count**

**12:30 pm: ur just gonna leave me with Ted??**

**12:35 pm: HE’S STILL ON POINT 1 OF 8 ON THE CONS LIST ABOUT VET SCHOOL**

**12:38 pm: ur dead to me **

**12:39 pm: tell Twyla she’s dead to me too **

Patrick hadn’t replied to the last batch because theatre had run late, making him rush to his last period before baseball, and it’s always a hectic rush to get to the ball field in time to properly get the team warmed up, since the field isn’t really close to the school at all.

And if he’s being honest, once he was in his uniform and on the field, he’d forgotten about David and the text messages for a little while. It had been nice, like a brain-break from his heightened teenage hormone-fuelled crush that was taking over his life.

It had been ever _nicer _when they started to pull ahead towards the end of the game, setting up for one of the best games of the season so far.

Patrick _loves _baseball, and he _loves _winning, and so he _really fucking loves _winning baseball.

He’d felt on top of the world, hugging his team, seeing his parent’s proud faces beaming at him from the stands, so when he saw **David Rose: 12 new messages **AND **Stevie: 2 new messages**, he thought there was no possible way his day could get any better.

**Stevie **

**3:15 pm There’s a lost puppy heading your way for “tutoring-related reasons” **

**3:18 pm …maybe. He just headed for the football field, so I’ll give him a 40% chance of actually finding you. I tried. **

Okay, maybe this day _could _get better after all.

The next few minutes had flown by in a blur of giddy giggles and incredible grades and because Patrick was already riding the high of winning the game, when David called him cute he’d though _fuck it_, and _made _time with David happen.

He’d flung an arm around David as an extra bonus, just because it was Tuesday, he was happy, and he could.

* * *

Patrick hadn’t really had a plan when he suggested they celebrate both of their victories, but it didn’t matter. They’d ended up just staying at the ball field, exploring behind the bleachers, Patrick showing off with pull ups on the rails that were holding up the seats above them.

“I’m really so happy for you, David. You worked hard for it, you deserve that A.” Patrick said again, for the hundredth time, because he was _so proud _of this boy.

David rolled his eyes, ‘cause he’d politely advised Patrick he’d hit his quota of people saying sincere and nice things to him, and Patrick could stop at any time. “I’m not going to say thank you again, even though I’d mean it, because this is frankly just getting ridiculous.” David laughed.

“Whatever, David. It was thanks enough that you somehow tracked me down at the ball field, even though you have no reason to know where the ball field is or that I was here.” Patrick laughed, thinking back to Stevie’s final text.

“Oh yeah, no, it was easy to find. I just followed the scent of sweaty teen spirit, led me straight here.” David lied. He’d continued to tell some story about his adventures on the way to the ball game, but Patrick couldn’t hear him over the sound of the _thing _he was doing with his lips.

Whenever David lied, and sometimes when he was joking, he would do this biting _thing _with his lips, as if worrying his lips between his teeth nervously really sent out the message that he was currently being completely truthful. Patrick loved it though. He wished he could look at it, instead of trying to see it from the corner of his eye. If he could just stare at David’s lips, shamelessly, and watch the way his teeth almost break the blood vessels in those perfect, full red lips, that’d be enough.

And so Patrick did.

He’d let his eyes fall to David’s lips, and was met with an eyeful of delicious nervous lip-biting. And it turned out, that was not enough. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to see what those lips would feel like against his own. Would they feel as soft as they looked? He’d seen David apply lip balm more than any of the girls in his class, so Patrick had a feeling they would be.

Suddenly Patrick realised the lips were no longer moving, because David had stopped talking. He risked a look back up to David’s eyes.

David was studying him with a small smirk, seemingly searching his face for an answer to why he’d just caught Patrick staring at his lips.

When neither boy said anything, Patrick watched as David pulled his mouth to the side, attempting and failing at stifling the grin that was already lighting up the rest of his face. He nodded slowly, turning to look back over at the field through the break in the bleachers above them.

Patrick wasn’t really sure what was happening, but this seemed like about the time when David could kiss him senseless underneath these bleachers and they’d fall madly in love and spend the rest of their lives growing old together and telling anyone who asks that it was love at first sight and the easiest thing in the world.

But David wasn’t kissing him, he wasn’t even looking at him. He was still looking out over the field, with a pleased little grin on his face.

Patrick suddenly realised no one had said anything for what felt like hours.

Had David asked him a question? Is that why he’d stopped talking and looked at Patrick? Was he waiting for him to say something?

“I, um, sorry. What did you say? Did you say something?” Patrick tried.

David turned to look at Patrick, _finally_, his eyes roaming over Patrick’s whole face, stopping briefly at his lips before landing on his eyes.

David shook his head.

“No, nope. I just stopped talking when I realised no one was home.” He teased, and nudged Patrick in the side with his elbow.

“Oh.” Patrick said. “Sorry. I, uh, was, um, distracted.” He tried for a convincing smile, but David shook his head again with a laugh.

“Right.” David smiled. “Did you… Did you want to _talk _about the distracting thing? Because I, um, I’m trying to work out a few distracting things for myself, and maybe it’ll help?” David suggested.

_Oohhhhh okay. Is something happening? Is this something? What is happening? _

“Um, yeah, okay.” Patrick agreed, terrified and excited and _terrified_. “But you have to promise not to say anything until I’m done. And that includes your face. Your face can say more things than your mouth sometimes, and it needs to…not. Just for the next few minutes.”

David laughed, “okay.” He twisted to lean against the nearest pole, settling in to listen in promised silence.

Patrick took a breath. He’d normally need to take moment or two to think about what he wanted to say, but it had all been bubbling so close to the surface all day that all he really had to do was open his mouth and let it all fall out.

“Well, I, um. I’ve been having trouble concentrating lately. Very distracted. There’s this _feeling _that I’ve been feeling that I’ve never really felt before, and I’m not sure what to do about it. It makes it very difficult to do things like _sleep_, and say the right lines at rehearsal, stuff like that,” He risked a glance at David, who was keeping his word with an entirely blank face, listening silently. “And uh, um. There’s this…equation? A theme? A pattern? That I’ve found. This _feeling _has a direct correlation to this…person. And it seems a bit insane, because I don’t really know this person that well, but it also kind of feels like I’ve never _not _known them. So I guess I’ve maybe been developing these _feelings _for this… person… that I’ve kind of just met, and I don’t know what to do about it, because I don’t know if this…person…has the same feelings… and I’ve mostly been worried that I might not ever muster up the courage to let them how I feel…” Patrick could feel tears stinging his eyes, which would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t already reaching into his chest, pulling out his heart and handing it to the beautiful, infuriatingly silent boy next to him.

He tried to continue, to find the right words to explain what it was he was trying to say, what is what that he _wanted_, but his voice gave out. So Patrick cleared his throat instead, swallowed his pride one last time, and turned to look at David.

His face was still remarkably blank, but there was maybe a small, quiet smile dancing behind his eyes. He’d been watching Patrick carefully as he spoke, as if Patrick’s face would tell him something his words couldn’t.

“Did that, um, help…with _your _distracting thing?” He finally asked.

David wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were bright, and Patrick didn’t know what to do with that. He thought this was maybe what David looked like when he was being serious, and Patrick was just now realising that David is very rarely serious.

“Yes. It did.” David nodded, still watching Patrick like he was a stray cat that might get spooked and sprint out onto the street in front of an incoming car with every word he said. “I, um, I have this friend. Who is really my only friend at the moment, and he’s so _good. _Like, I’ve also, coincidentally, not known this person for very long, but I already care about him, and…um…respect? Him. And uh…think he’s _nice. _Which are new things for me. All of it. Most embarrassingly the friend part, ‘cause I don’t know if I’ve really had a real friend before, who did things just to help me because they wanted to, not because I could buy them things or let them borrow our Hamptons beach house, may she rest in peace. But there _are _these _feelings_, um, of course there are, because he is gorgeous and kind and smart and talented, but I’ve got a few, _distracting_, concerns.”

It took every single fibre of Patrick’s being not to jump David where he stood and shove his tongue down his throat like he needed it to breathe. But he’d asked David not to say anything, and he hadn’t, so he let David continue.

“I _really _like this guy, and I have a history of going for the things that are right in front of me, even when I maybe shouldn’t. When maybe it’s better to leave that thing alone, because it’s the only thing making my life bearable right now, and if I did something stupid like try to kiss the thing that’s right in front of me behind the bleachers of the baseball place a day after I met him, I’m pretty sure I would find a way to ruin it and I just don’t know if I could handle living in this town without him.” David admitted. “And I think, I have a feeling, that maybe this person hasn’t been with someone like me before. That maybe they’re not really sure if they’re into boys or not, which is absolutely fine, and they _should _experiment and find out, and I _wish _I could be in the right place mentally right now to help them explore that, but I know I’m not. I _know _it would end in another broken heart for me, and I just don’t think I could deal with that right now. Especially since I would also be friendless and alone.”

Patrick wanted to pull David into him and press promises into every inch of his skin. Promise that he would never stop being his friend, promise that he knew what he wanted, and it was the boy sitting right in front of him. He _wanted so badly _to promise all of these things to him, but Patrick knew he couldn’t. He knew there was no logical way that either of them could know what would happen if _something _happened, and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to David. So he nodded, small and slow, and held his hand out between them.

David looked at him curiously, but took it with his own. Patrick squeezed, and felt those tears threatening to break through again when he felt David squeeze back.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” is what Patrick decided to say to eventually break the silence.

David nodded again, and squeezed Patrick’s hand in his.

“We can talk whenever you’d like. Ideally not before 7am though, cause I’m not really a morning person and it’s best to let my alarm feel the wrath of waking me up rather than taking that role on yourself.” He smiled, which made Patrick smile, because this, somehow, still felt hopeful.

It felt like a step is some kind of direction. Whether that was forwards or sideways or to the diagonal, he wasn’t sure. But they were _talking _about it, so it wasn’t a step back.

David had confirmed Patrick wasn’t going insane, that there was _something _here, _something _happening.

And if Patrick was a more impulsive kid with less self control, and if David wasn’t already so wounded and bruised, they’d probably be making out in this very spot right now.

But this was them. It was _so _them. This was sweet, perfect, charming, David, who thought he wasn’t worthy of good things, letting Patrick in just enough to show him how much he cared. That he cared _so much _that he was trying to be better, to do things differently, because he felt like Patrick was too good to lose. And it was Patrick, who liked everything to make sense, and always tried to do what was right and never wanted to let anyone down, being brave for David. Splaying himself open to get his heart trampled on by a boy he barely knew, but doing it anyway because there’s no way this ends in regret. Not really. Even if David decides he just wants to be Patrick’s friend, that can be enough for Patrick. Getting to know David, getting to be near him, knowing that David is letting him in when he’s already so vulnerable and broken, that can be enough.

Patrick doesn’t know why he feels like tomorrow will hold more answers than today, but he feels like it does.

Today has done enough.

Today let Patrick be courageous and tell David how he felt. Today let David feel safe enough with Patrick, to _trust_Patrick enough to open up about what had been worrying him.

Today has done enough.

Tomorrow can figure out where they go from here. Tomorrow can break Patrick’s heart if it needs to. Patrick can deal with all of that, as long as tomorrow and the next day and the next still bring him David, Patrick can deal with anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow wow these fictional teens are so much better at open and honest dialogue than any of usssss. Love this journey for them. 
> 
> You are all so nice with your delightful comments, they make me so happy! Thank you! x


	5. You will be found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David gets tired of waiting for Patrick to find him so they can *talk*, and ends up tracking him down to his theatre rehearsal. 
> 
> Except Patrick's the only one there and he's hunched over a piano and David physically can't move.

_Oof. _

David was going _through it. _

Since WHEN was David a rational, reasonable, level-headed person who communicated honestly and openly about feelings and concerns instead of **making out **with people who are **_Patrick??_**

** **

David thinks he might be dying.

Maybe he has one of those brain tumors that makes you act recklessly, but… the opposite?

He _must _be dying, because what other reason could there be that Patrick had admitted he had feelings for David, and David hadn’t pushed him against the cold steel structure they were standing under and _kissed _that boy like he deserved to be kissed?

He has to be dying.

He’d asked Alexis to take his temperature when he’d gotten home last night, and she’d tried, but they didn’t have a thermometer, so she had just put her hand on his forehead, closed her eyes, and guessed the first number that came to mind.

David didn’t have the heart to tell her that if he had a fever of 5 he would be dead already. But she had looked so happy that he had asked for her help, that he just thanked her for being an excellent nurse before burying himself under the covers for the rest of the night.

She was only 11, and David knew she was struggling just as much with the move as he was. He had been feeling kind of bad about how distracted he’d been since they got to town, so he’d made a mental note then and there that he would have to plan something fun for the two of them to do together soon.

Not now, though. Because now it was 7am on Wednesday morning and David had to emerge from under the covers and face the world even though he was definitely _dying_.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand next to him and David kind of wanted to cry.

**Patrick **

**7:01 am: Good morning, David.**

**7:01 am: Please try not to be too harsh on your alarm, it has such a thankless job already :(**

David let out a half laugh half sob because Patrick was still sending him good morning texts and _joking _with him and maybe he hadn’t ruined whatever this was before it started, or maybe he didn’t do a good _enough _job of stopping whatever this is from starting, he really didn’t know.

_Ah fuck it. _

** _7:03 am: alarms don’t deserve thanks _ **

** _7:03 am: alarms deserve a slow and painful death_ **

** _7:04 am: i should get to sit right next to the alarms screaming loudly at them in 10 minute intervals while they die_ **

** **

_If someone brings an alarm to my impending deathbed I swear to god_, David thought out loud. His phone buzzed again in his hand.

**Patrick **

**7:05 am: lol **

**7:05 am: I’d pay to see that **

**7:05 am: It sounds like one of those artsy exhibitions they’d have in NYC **

David smiled. He’d always loved those kind of galleries, he’d seen himself maybe owning one one day, back when he hadn’t been doomed to live in Schitt’s Creek forever. Now he might just have to make do by screaming at alarm clocks in motel rooms whilst _he _dies.

He didn’t know how to explain all that in a text without reminding Patrick that, up until just a few weeks ago, he was a spoiled rich boy who actually went to those artsy exhibitions in NYC. That a few weeks ago, David wouldn’t have given a small town boy with perfect curly hair a second thought. That David was shallow and vain and materialistic and all the kinds of things someone like Patrick shouldn’t have to deal with. Cause someone like Patrick could have whoever he wanted. He could turn to the gorgeous redheaded girl who sits next to him every lunch and ask her out, and 5 years later they’d be married with a perfect house with a picket fence and a dog named Lucky. A few years after that they would pop out a few gorgeous, curly redheaded babies, and it would be perfect, and Patrick would deserve it all.

So, instead of reminding Patrick about all _that. _He threw his phone onto the bed and pulled the covers back over his face for just a _few _more minutes.

* * *

David had just made it to homeroom on time in the end, so the only seat left was the one right at the front of the class near the teacher’s desk. Patrick had been nervously eyeing the door when David rushed in, and when he’d seen him, Patrick’s face had lit up with relief, shooting a smile to David across the room. 

When the bell had rung, instead of heading for the door like everyone else, Patrick beelined straight for David.

“Hi,” Patrick had said quietly, because Mrs Currie was sitting at her desk, far too close for comfort.

“Hey,” David had whispered back, throwing his phone into his backpack and heading for the door, Patrick right by his side.

“I still really want to talk today, if that’s, um, still okay with you?” Patrick had his hand wrapped loosely around David’s wrist whilst they walked, so he’d found it very difficult to think straight.

“Mmmhmm,” David had hummed, “of course it is.” And Patrick had tightened his hold on David’s wrist with a squeeze.

“I’m actually in the other direction, but I’ll, um, I’ll find you later?” Patrick had admitted, which made David smile because of course Patrick was walking the wrong way just to get a few extra seconds in.

_This boy. _

David had only _just _managed to stop the pout pressing at his mouth after Patrick had taken his hand back from David’s wrist.

It had twisted into a smile, though, when Patrick had called out, “Have a good day, David!” from halfway down the hall.

* * *

Lunchtime had come and gone without much success in the talking department.

Patrick had turned up earlier than usual, coming up behind David in the lunch line, much to the disgust of the group of girls behind them that Patrick had pushed in front of.

“I’m not getting food, I’m just here for him.” Patrick had sassed back, his hand on David’s shoulder, when they’d loudly bitched about the situation. 

It had turned out he wasn’t lying, Patrick had just come to inform him that he’d been called to an emergency band meeting over lunch, because someone’s trombone had gone missing, and something about a French Horn, David wasn’t really listening again because Patrick’s thumb was rubbing back and forth where it sat on his shoulder.

David had actually pouted this time, and Patrick had laughed, squeezing his shoulder and _winking _before apologizing a final time and leaving David to another episode of Ted Makes Decisions Loudly.

* * *

David hadn’t heard from Patrick since then, and he didn’t want to look _needy_, but school was over for the day and there had been precisely _zero _talking.

_“I’ll find you later,” _Patrick had said, so he’d been doing his best to be easy to find.

He’d spent a little extra time packing his things into this locker, read some of the flyers on one the notice boards (where he saw Patrick had been cast in an upcoming production of Cabaret and filed that away for another time), and fixed his hair up in the smudgy mirror of the school washroom. 

But still nothing.

So he’d decided to just _casually _stroll past Patrick’s locker, just in case he happened to run into him there.

Patrick wasn’t there, but Stevie was. She was slamming her locker shut when she’d turned around to see David, who probably looked a bit like a puppy who had just been caught doing something it shouldn’t be doing. Stevie rolled her eyes like she expected nothing less.

“I really don’t have the energy for this today,” she sighed, “he’s already at theatre rehearsal. In the auditorium.” She supplied, surprisingly helpful.

“Ummmm…” David was considering pretending that he hadn’t been looking for Patrick at all, but now all he really wanted to do was locate this auditorium and the boy of his dreams that’s currently in it, so he just went with, “thanks.”

Stevie shook her head at him, as if one of the two words he had said since he got there had been ridiculous. But she was smiling, and David remembered she was Patrick’s friend, so she maybe probably knows more than she’s letting on.

“Maybe you two should sync your Google calendars or something?? I’m not his personal secretary!” She called out over her shoulder as she headed for home. 

* * *

It hadn’t taken him as long to find the auditorium as it had the ball field. It was actually in the school this time, and it was probably one of the biggest spaces on campus. It seemed like it was usually set up for school assemblies and presentations, but it was currently covered in set pieces and props and costumes that had been thrown into piles on the stage.

David had passed a bunch of people wearing costumes on his way in, they seemed to have been heading out so David had kind of figured he might have already missed Patrick.

David couldn’t actually see anyone inside from where he was standing behind the glass doors, maybe they were taking a break? Or maybe theatre runs for a more reasonable than baseball?

David was about to head back out when he heard a piano chord ring out through the room. He hadn’t seen a piano, so he moved to the other door, where he was met with exactly what he was hoping to see. Off to the side of stage was a large, white piano, and sitting behind it, fingers dancing over its keys, was Patrick. He was playing a few chords over and over, the notes were slow and low, so David was surprised when Patrick didn’t seem to hear him when he slipped in through the big double doors.

David didn’t really want a repeat of the creepy stalkerish hovering from yesterday, so he was just about to make it known to Patrick that he was standing in the middle of the aisle, when Patrick opened his mouth and started to _sing. _

And maybe David wasn’t dying at all, maybe Alexis had been right and David was already dead, because there’s no way the sounds flowing through the auditorium were anything less than the voice of a literal angel.

> _ “Have you ever felt like nobody was there?  
Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?”_

It took David’s brain a second to process all the things that were happening. On one hand, he still felt like he should let Patrick know he was there, but on the other, the most beautiful boy he had ever known was _singing _and David couldn’t move or speak or make his presence known if he’d wanted to, because as the lyrics finally floated in through his ears and settled in his brain, David was _stuck. _

> _ “Have you ever felt like you could disappear?  
Like you could fall, and no one would hear”_

It could have been the fact that the words were crawling inside David’s soul and wrapping their arms around him and making him feel so _seen_, or it might have been that Patrick was the one singing them and it felt like he was singing them right to David, but David felt like his knees were about to give way under the weight of it all.

> _ “Well, let that lonely feeling wash away_  
Maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay  
'Cause when you don't feel strong enough to stand  
You can reach, reach out your hand”

Patrick had his eyes closed, sort of hunched over the piano a bit. His fingers were flying over the keys like he could do this in his sleep.

> _ “And oh, someone will coming running  
And I know, they'll take you home”_

David couldn’t tear his eyes away from the smaller boy’s face. It was so alight with emotion and honesty and truth, and the lyrics made him feel like Patrick was _seeing _him. Not just for the money or the fame or the perks, but that he was being seen for all that he was, the good, bad and the ugly.

> _ “Even when the dark comes crashing through_  
When you need a friend to carry you  
And when you're broken on the ground  
You will be found”

There were tears streaming down David’s face now, hot and of their own accord. David had no control over anything, all he could do was stand there, in between two rows of auditorium seats, staring up at this perfect boy with the biggest heart. With every word out of Patrick’s mouth, it felt like he was inside David’s chest with a bulldozer, knocking down every wall he’d built up since the day he was born.

> “_So let the sun come streaming in_  
'Cause you'll reach up and you'll rise again  
Lift your head and look around  
You will be found”

David thinks he must have, at that point, let out the sob he had been holding in, because Patrick’s head snapped up and the music stopped and a red-eyed David was looking at a red-eyed Patrick, and now they both looked like puppies who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Patrick just sort of stared at him for a minute, opening and shutting his mouth, as if searchingfor the words to say.

And David _tried _not to panic. He _tried _not to reverse right out of the room and run until he was safely under the covers of his bed. He _tried. _But Patrick still hadn’t said anything, and David knew that must mean he was upset.

David couldn’t handle it. He knew Patrick hated that he was here, that he’d heard this. He had been so so stupid, he thought, to think that Patrick was ever singing about him. David hated that he always made everything about himself, Patrick deserves so much better than that.

“I-I’m sorry- - I shouldn’t have–I shouldn’t…” David slapped his hand over his mouth before he could make it any worse. Finally, his brain had come back online, and he suddenly remembered where he was in relation to the door and turned to head _directly _out of it and never turn back.

But there was a loud scraping groan coming from behind him as Patrick jumped up, forcing the heavy piano stool backwards on the stage. David could hear him tripping over the props and stumbling down the steps as he yelled,“David! Wait!”

And because he had nothing left, nothing left to give, nothing left to lose, he did.

He stopped, and turned back, just as Patrick caught up with him, still, somehow, standing in the aisle of the auditorium. Patrick’s face was right there now, looking right into David’s soul like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. David couldn’t read his expression, he thought he maybe looked worried and embarrassed and…angry? Sad?

“You weren’t meant to hear that–,” Patrick started to say quietly, but David couldn’t handle this right now. He already knew, he knew he had already fucked everything up, and they weren’t even a _thing _yet, so he cut him off.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been listening, I didn’t mean to I was just looking for you and then you started singing and I _physically _couldn’t move I—” David was cut off by Patrick’s mouth crashing against his own.

And, _Oh. _

David reached out immediately, searching for _more, _any partof Patrick he could grab and pull closer. He got a handful of Patrick’s shirt and tugged, pressing Patrick’s body against his own. Patrick’s hands were holding his face now, holding him there like Patrick was scared he might disappear. The kiss was hard and soft and slow and fast and _everything_. Patrick was the first to pull back, gasping for air, his fingers still cradling his jaw.

David watched him slowly register what he had done, as he took his hand back from David’s face, slowly tracing his cheekbone and the line of his jaw as he did so. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” Patrick said it like he kind of meant it, but he also kind of didn’t.

“It’s just what I was _trying _to say is that you weren’t meant to hear it _yet_, because I wanted it to be perfect when I sung it _to you, _David.” He was looking up at David sheepishly through his lashes, like what he’d just said was embarrassing rather than the sweetest thing David had ever heard.

“I was trying to figure out how to explain to you, how to _show _you that I’m _here_, David. And I _heard _you, yesterday. I know you might not be ready, you might not ever be ready, but I don’t care. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, and I’m okay with being whatever you need me to be.” There were a few tears escaping Patrick’s eyes, and David couldn’t help but reach up to wipe them away with his thumb. “And you were right, I’ve never done that before. With a guy. But, David, I’m not confused, I’m not using you as an experiment, I _want _to be as much to you as you will let me be.”

He was looking at David with an expression so open that David felt his knees buckle again as the weight of it washed over him. Patrick was standing there like he’d let David break his heart any way he wanted to, and the responsibility of it was all too much. “And no pressure, but I’d be _totally _okay with it if you might want me to be someone who gets to kiss you again, because that–_that_–was—” Patrick shook his head in disbelief.

“Mmm,” David smiled, small and content, and pulled Patrick back in to him. This time, David had his arms wrapped tightly around Patrick’s shoulders, and Patrick was holding David’s waist, and it was _perfect. _

When he pulled back, Patrick was laughing.

“What?” David laughed, too. “Should I be offended?” Because, historically, people laughing at him in _intimate _moments, hadn’t been a good thing, but he had a feeling this time it maybe was.

“No, no, no, no. No, David. Kissing you is _everything. _I-I’ve…this. It feels like my first time. All the things you’re supposed to feel? I can feel them. I’ve never felt them before.” He was laughing, so free and joyful, and David had never heard such a beautiful sound.

All David could do was smile.

“Thank you.” David said, quietly.

“For what?” Patrick asked.

“Well, all of it, really. But thank you for the song. Thank you for always knowing exactly the right thing to say. Thank you for always being brave enough to say it.” David could go on for eternity, and he was only going off of 3 days of knowing Patrick.

Patrick smiled, blinding and wide, “Thank you for letting me say it,’ he said into David’s lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he kissed all over David’s face, making David whimper.

“Is this…was that okay?” Patrick asked, shyly, softly.

David laughed, “Yes. Yes. It was…yes.” He didn’t want to tell Patrick just yet the he is so starved for affection that something as innocent as Patrick pressing sweet words into his skin had caused a _whimper _to escape before he could stop it.

“Okay, but I just - - I know I kind of got carried away. I hadn’t meant to kiss you; I just couldn’t help it. But I _did _hear you, and I respect you David and I respect that this might not be what’s best for you right now. I just. I wanted to tell you that, those concerns you talked about yesterday, the ones that relate to me, the ones I have any kind of say in, I’m all in. If you want me. _This. _If you want this. I know you said you maybe weren’t mentally ready for a relationship or anything right now, but I can wait. Being your friend can be enough.” Patrick said, eyes searching David’s for any sign he might flee.

David _wanted _to push him against the door and press every inch of himself against the other boy. He _wanted _to make sure Patrick could _feel_against him just how much David did want him, wanted this.

But instead, David pulled the hand he’d apparently been holding up to his lips, and kissed every knuckle like it was the most precious thing in the universe. Then, because he’d apparently lost his mind, he pulled that hand where it was entwined with his own to sit over his chest, right above his heart.

“I want to try,” he whispered. “With you, this.” Patrick was smiling that sincere smile and David couldn’t look away. “I will probably still find a way to ruin it, but if you promise you won’t hate me when I do, then yes. Yes. I want you, I want this, all of it. Of course I do, Patrick. Of course I do. More than anything. You.”

And like he really could see every part of David, read every thought, Patrick backed him up against the door and _kissed him. _

_Oh lord, did he kiss him. _

David could tell Patrick had done this before, but he was maybe a little rusty, a little unsure. So he took a step forward and spun them around, pressing Patrick against the door, kissing down his neck whilst he did so. Patrick had his hands tangled in David’s hair, which was _no fair _because David wanted _his _hands in Patrick’s curls, but when Patrick gave the handful of strands he was clutching a tug, David figured this might be okay too.

They both heard the tell-tale sounds of people approaching – a distant chattering, footsteps getting louder – and Patrick dropped his head forward into David’s shoulder in defeat. David had his eyes squeezed shut above him, trying to calm the urge to scream at whoever was coming their way for _RUINING THIS MOMENT, _but then Patrick was turning his head slightly and pressing a quick kiss into the spot on his neck just below his ear before stepping back a bit to place another kiss right in the middle of David’s forehead.

He laughed at the pained expression he found on David’s face, and leaned in one more time to kiss the end of David’s nose for good measure.

“That’s my theatre group coming back from break,” Patrick explained quietly, “but if you want to stay back for another half hour, I would love to walk you home.” He reached out to squeeze David’s hand, pulling him away from the door about 30 seconds before _too many people _came flooding in.

David huffed, but nodded. “Okay, _fine_, I _suppose _I can handle that,” he sighed dramatically.

“Good.” Patrick smiled. “You can take a seat and watch if you want. Otherwise I’ll meet you out the front in 30.” Patrick quickly pulled David’s hand to his mouth with a small kiss. It was a tiny, perfect gesture, that no one else saw because it was none of their business.

It was Patrick telling David that he didn’t care if people knew, but that for now, this was just theirs.

That maybe one day soon, when they’ve had a chance to explore what this is, he’ll be able to kiss Patrick goodbye as he heads up to the stage, and anyone who wants to look can see.

But for now, David could still feel Patrick’s lips tingling on his hand as he watched him head for the stage, and it was all he needed.

David didn’t tend to believe in promises, but he believed Patrick.

Patrick wasn’t going anywhere, and as David dropped into a seat in the back row of the auditorium to watch _theatre rehearsal_, he couldn’t think of a clearer way to say that _neither was he. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That sweet lil song is You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen (Noah would do this song SUCH justice).
> 
> I'm so ready to know what you think! This chapter was one of the hardest to write, because I just wanted to skip to the end!! x


	6. I just really missed you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has a very busy Thursday, and just wants to find David. David has a very bad Thursday, and just wants to find Patrick.

Usually Patrick loves being busy. He likes having places to be, things to do, people who need him. Which is a good thing, usually, considering how busy he is every day of the week.

But today, Patrick has barely had a minute to breathe, and even if he did have a minute to breathe he’s not sure that he could. With every passing second it’s coming up on _18 hours _since he last saw David, last _kissed _David, and he needed to do both again. Immediately.

Unfortunately, there’s still 45 minutes left of Science before lunch, during which time he has approximately 7 minutes to hunt down David, pull him into an empty room, kiss him like he needs to, then run to the first round of rehearsals for Cabaret. It’s not nearly enough time, and he knows it. He knows that David is all he will be thinking about through rehearsal, through last period English, through baseball practice after school.

Since Monday, Patrick’s brain had been filled with everything and anything David.

_How is he that beautiful? _

_Does he know how beautiful he is? _

_Does he know how great he is?_

_Has anyone told him recently just how great he is? _

_What would it feel like to kiss him? _

_Does he think about what it would feel like to kiss me? _

_Would he even want to kiss me? _

_When can I kiss him?_

It had been distracting, to say the least.

So Patrick was less than impressed with himself, but also not at all surprised, to find himself sitting in class _again_, **_post_**-kissing David, still feeling very distracted by the boy and those lips.

Patrick could not believe he had actually kissed him. If he’s being honest with himself, it was probably more the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins after being caught practicing his corny ‘serenade David’ plan, but he had still done it. And David had kissed him back, and Patrick had never felt so right.

He’d expected to feel panic, or a little confused, maybe. He’d been waiting since he met David for the sexuality crisis to come and bowl him over, and when he was _making out with a boy _seemed like as good a time as any. It hadn’t come, though. Patrick,on the other hand, had _definitely _come, hours after the best kiss of his life, thinking about brown eyes and dark hair and the way David smells so much like _man. _

David was a man, a gorgeous, perfect man, and Patrick had never wanted anyone more in his life.

Right now, though, he would settle for just _seeing _David.

He just… _somehow_…has to make it to lunch.

* * *

Patrick had _finally _finally made it to lunch. To maximize efficiency in spending as much time with David as he could, it had required him (_gently_) pushing a number of people (_a lot of people) _out of his way as he jogged (_sprinted) _to the cafeteria. He’d made it in record time, only to be met with precisely zero David Roses.

He’d checked his phone because A: maybe David had texted him (he hadn’t) and B: he had to keep an eye on the time because he wasn’t even supposed to _be here._

David always beat Patrick to lunch. He didn’t know many people yet, so he had no reason to hang back in class, or talk by the lockers. It meant Patrick had started becoming accustom to walking into the cafeteria and being blessed with the sight of David scowling at whatever had been slopped on his lunch tray that day. 

Patrick could feel his precious, meticulously planned seconds of David ticking away from him where he stood. It seemed a little ridiculous, considering lunch had started 3 minutes ago, but he didn’t _like _that David wasn’t here. It didn’t seem right. It seemed like maybe something was wrong, and Patrick couldn’t really figure out what it was or where else he’d be.

_Maybe he’d joined a club and not mentioned it? _

_Maybe he’d found some new friends who frequent the sports shed? _

_Maybe he’d never gotten around to that homework last night and landed himself in lunch time detention? _

_Maybe he’s avoiding me?_

Just as Patrick had whipped around in a panic to head right back out the door to hunt for David with the remaining five minutes he had spare, he body-slammed directly into a tiny, very familiar redhead.

“OHmygosh!” Rachel laughed, the hand she’d thrown onto his shoulder to steady herself staying there a little longer than it needed to. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

_I don’t have time for this, David is either laying in a ditch, dying, somewhere, or he’s avoiding me and I don’t know what’s worse._

“No, no it’s fine, it was me, sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush.” Patrick managed, his eyes darting behind her while he spoke just to triple check David hadn’t snuck in in the 30 seconds this had already taken up.

“You seem to always be in a bit of a rush these days, Pat. I miss hanging out with you,” Rachel admitted quietly. She was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she spoke, Patrick noticed.

_She does that when she’s upset._

Patrick felt a pang of guilt settle in his stomach.

He had always been cautious about leading Rachel on. He didn’t want to promise her anything he couldn’t promise, or give her the illusion that there was something here that wasn’t.

Sure, that hadn’t stopped him from making out with her a few times, mostly at parties where alcohol was involved, but he _was _still a teenager. He might be a fairly sensible teenager, but he still had raging hormones that refused to be ignored.

_They’d been friends, once. Proper, real friends. Maybe they could do that again._

“Yeah, I guess I have. We should do something sometime, get the group together for a movie or something? I have to go, but I might send a thing about it to the group chat tonight?” Patrick offered. It seemed like a good compromise, and also he _really _had to go.

“That sounds great. I’ll lookup what’s on!” Rachel beamed, like that was exactly what she had wanted him to say. There was also a semblance of hope in that smile, and it broke Patrick’s heart a little.

Patrick knew how sweet Rachel was, and that she probably genuinely did miss spending time with him just as a friend.

But he was also pretty sure that if he had asked her to be his girlfriend right now she would say yes, and that makes Patrick feel even worse. Because he knows that in some alternative universe somewhere, David had never come along and turned his world upside down, given him a reason to stop lying to himself and realize he was very very into boys. And in that universe, he probably did ask Rachel to be his girlfriend, they probably become high school sweethearts and get married and have kids. Hell, that’s what 90% of the people that know them in this universe think is going to happen. So, Patrick still feels really bad that Rachel is probably in that 90% and makes a mental note to tell Rachel about him and David himself, before it gets out. To make sure he salvages that friendship, because they really were best friends once, before hormones and puberty and casual making out, and he doesn’t want to lose that.

So when Rachel went to lean in for a hug before he could hurry away, he took the time to _actually _return it. He wasn’t sure it was possible, but he hoped he could somehow explain all of that through this one five second hug.

And It seemed that maybe some of it did get through, or it might have just been because he was hanging on a little tighter than usual, the hug lasting a little longer, that when he pulled away Rachel asked “is everything okay?”

_NO I CAN’T FIND DAVID._

“Yeah, Rach, everything is really really good. I just need to find someone before rehearsal starts in..” he looked at his phone, “Shit. Two minutes. Okay I’ve really gotta go.”

“Okay, well text me!” She called out to him as he rushed through the doors.

“I will!” He yelled back, but he wasn’t sure if she heard because he was hallway down the hallway like the man on a mission he was.

* * *

The mission was aborted about five minutes after he was supposed to already be in rehearsal, resulting in a stressed out Patrick arriving for the very first rehearsal of a musical he was one of the leads in seven minutes late. Mrs Schitt had given him a concerned look when he’d snuck in, probably because she’d never known Patrick to be late to anything in his life, let alone something as significant as this.

He hadn’t found David, and David hadn’t texted, so Patrick didn’t really care about the pep talk Mrs Schitt had been delivering for what felt like an eternity.

Patrick was having trouble concentrating on the musical or the exercises or literally anything else except David. This morning, the David that filled his head was the the smile when they saw each other for the first time today, the way he’d look when Patrick pushes him up against the nearest wall and kisses him, the tiny, perfect smile he’d try to hide when Patrick held his hand. But now he was just worried about David, worried about him disappearing on him.

Mrs Schitt was leading the group in a repeating exercise when the worry bubbled up enough to the surface that Patrick was feeling physically sick. He excused himself to the bathroom because there was really no point in him being at rehearsal in this state.

He locked himself in one of the bathroom stalls and pulled out his phone – still no new messages – and tapped through to bring up their texts from this morning. Maybe he’d missed something, maybe he’d said something that scared David away.

**_7:01 am: Good morning David_ **

He winced at that. It had taken him 15 minutes of contemplation to land on “Good morning David” with no emojis and no “x”s. At first he’d wanted to say “good morning beautiful” or maybe “gorgeous” but he hadn’t said those things to David in person yet, and he kind of wanted to see his reaction, to know if he’d find it charming or corny, so he’d settled on just his name.

**David**

**7:03 am: its so early patrick **

**7:03 am: why is school so early **

**7:04 am: also hi **

** **

_How can someone be so cute via a text message??_

** **

_ **7:05 am: Hi** _

_ **7:05 am: I dreamt about you last night ** _

_ **7:06 am: Dream David is *very * cute ** _

Okay, maybe _that _was a bit much for the morning after their first kiss, but David’s reply hadn’t made it seem so. 

**David**

**7:07 am: omg **

**7:07 am: you cant just say these things when i cant kiss you**

**7:08 am: when can i kiss you**

** **

Patrick’s whole body had practically floated above the bed when he had read that.

_Always. Whenever. _Is what he’d wanted to type. Instead he’d had to go with

_ **7:09 am: I’ll find you** _

_Fuck. I’M TRYING. YOU’RE BEING VERY DIFFICULT TO FIND._

**David**

**7:11 am: im learning thats patrick speak for “im busy” **

**7:11 am: :(**

**7:12 am: see you in homeroom? **

** **

_Ouch._

** **

_ **7:13 am: You’re very observant ** _

_ **7:13 am: Sorry, I promise I’ll find you ** _

_ **7:14 am: Probably not in homeroom, I have a meeting ** _

**David**

**7:15 am: :(**

Maybe David felt like Patrick didn’t have enough time for him. Or maybe he felt like Patrick was trying to avoid him, that these rehearsals and band practices and meetings were just excuses. They weren’t, unfortunately, and Patrick had never hated being busy more than he had this week.

Maybe David was already sick of having to fit into Patrick’s schedule. Patrick had never had to fit someone into his schedule before, never _wanted _to. But he does now.

He looked at the time on his phone, there was still about 10 minutes left of the lunch break, so Patrick swallowed his pride and pressed the little ‘call’ icon next to David’s name.

For a number of reasons, partly to do with Patrick being under 35, the sound of the call ringing sent anxiety through his every molecule.

_Finally, _the ringing was cut off and he heard the click of David answering his call.

“…Hello?” David answered, almost like he didn’t know his phone had this “call” function.

“Hey. It’s me,” Duh, he thought. He has your number, he knows this.

“Oh. Yeah, I know. Hi. I wouldn’t have answered if it was anyone else.” David blabbered.

Patrick laughed, “Right.”

“You’re not at lunch,” David stated, matter of factly.

“No, I’m sorry, I have rehearsal for the musical. I tried to find you, you weren’t there. I was actually kind of worried, is everything okay?”

There was a long silence that Patrick hated more than anything, and then a quiet sigh through the line.

“Yeah, I mean no, but yes. I’ve just been having a bad day, and I _really _just want to see you.” David eventually said, and Patrick was _so _relieved about that last part that he almost forgot about the middle part.

“I _really really _just want to see you, too. Tell me about your day?” Patrick replied, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate through the phone.

There was another silence, but not quite as long this time.

“Don’t you have rehearsing to do?” David asked, seemingly trying to change the subject.

“I don’t care. Tell me…. If you want.” Patrick had honestly forgotten about rehearsal as soon as David told him he was having a bad day.

Another sigh came through the line, this one was big and full of emotions that make Patrick want to hold David until it all goes away.

David took in a shaky sounding breath.

“It’s a lot of things, really, it’s everything. There’s family stuff and school stuff and kids being assholes and assignments that don’t make sense and people talking at the lunch table about how you asked Rachel out, and how perfect you two are for each other. And, on top of everything else, there’s no _you, _today. I haven’t seen you. You promised I would,” David let it all out in the one breath, like he’d been barely holding it in all morning and so it just fell right out.

When he realized David was finished, Patrick had to remind himself to let out the breath he had been holding.

“_David_,” is about all he could get out. He wanted to cry, because he could hear in the other boy’s voice that David had probably already been crying, and at least half of the things that had made David cry were Patrick’s own stupid fault.

“And it’s all stupid, pointless things, I know. But it’s just been a really shitty day.” Patrick was shaking his head in response, before remembering he was on the phone and David couldn’t actually know that. 

“Where are you?” He asked instead.

“What?”

“Right now, where are you?” Patrick repeated.

“Crying behind the sports shed doesn’t seem like the right answer, but it is, unfortunately, the true one.” David admitted.

“_David_,” Patrick had his face buried in his hand, because David was breaking his heart and he was actually about to start crying. “Just stay there,” he ordered, hanging up the call before he spent another second somewhere that David wasn’t.

But, because he’s still sensible and he can’t help it, Patrick took a second to send a text off to both Twyla and Stevie, asking them to tell Mrs Schitt that he isn’t feeling well, so he won’t be able to finish rehearsals today.

He’d been acting weird, so all three of them would likely believe it.

After that, his phone was shoved into his back pocket and forgotten about completely as he jogged (sprinted) across the small campus from the auditorium out to the sports shed. 

The old, gross, infamous sports shed is exactly where a sheepish David, eyes red and puffy, was leaning against one of the outer walls.

“I was told there’d be weed here, I have been sorely misled.” David quipped before Patrick pulled him into a hug, one arm gripping far too tight around his shoulders and the other running dangerously through David’s hair.

“I’m sorry you’re having a bad day,” he whispered into David’s neck.

“It’s _much _better now.” David smiled.

Patrick pulled back as little as he possibly could, holding David’s face in his hands and just_looking at him. _He looked tired, and stressed, and anxious. Patrick tried to kiss all the points over his face that looked tense – his forehead, where his brow had been creased, the corner of his eyes, the sides of his mouth where it had been turned down, his jaw where it’d been clenched. Finally, he met his lips with his own, gentle and soft, willing away all the bad and trying to replace it with only this. David whimpered, maybe at the softness of it, maybe because he’d also been counting down the seconds since they’d done this last.

Patrick could feel him trying to deepen the kiss, but he kept control, kept it gentle and sweet and calm. Because as much as he wished it was, behind the sports shed five minutes before the bell rang was _not _the place Patrick wanted to accidentally get lost in David.

He pulled away, still keeping their faces close, and saw new tears falling down David’s face. “_Baby_,” he winced, moving his thumb over to wipe them away before the sight of them literally broke his heart in two.

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” David had his eyes glued up towards the sky, willing the tears to stop leaking from his face, “I just really missed you.”

Patrick smiled, “I know. Me too,” he admitted. “Let me take you out after school. On a date. A real one.”

David’s face lit up. “But it’s Thursday, you have baseball on a Thursday,” David explained, and the fact that he apparently knew Patrick’s schedule _did things _to him.

“It’s only practice, I can skip it this once,” Patrick reasoned, stealing another quick kiss.

“But you _love _baseball, I don’t want you to miss it just for me. I swear these aren’t supposed to be guilt-trip tears, they’re just stressy, gross tears because I’m stressy and gross,” David said, like that was a reasonable thing to say to Patrick who, even with the tears and the stress and the sports shed backdrop, had never seen anything as beautiful as David.

“I’m not, it’s for entirely selfish reasons. There’s this boy I really like, and I’ve never met anyone quite like him before. And don’t tell anyone this, but yesterday, I got to _kiss him. _And it was – wow. It was the _best. _It was _better _than I’d been imagining it would be, and that’s saying a lot.” David was rolling his eyes, but the poorly concealed grin was giving him away, so Patrick continued.“But, you see, I thought, once I kissed him, that he would become a _less _distracting presence in my brain. But nuh-uh, turns out he’s actually become _far _more distracting. All I want to do now is kiss him again, all the time, and know what he’s thinking, and how his day has been and what his favorite color is and just _everything. _I want to know _everything. _And I can’t do _any _of that at baseball practice.” Patrick explained, finishing it off with a gentle kiss on the very end of David’s adorable nose.

When he pulled back, he noticed there were tears threatening to escape from David’s eyes again, but they seemed like happier ones now, and that _so-very-David _smile was twisted into the side of his mouth.

“Okay. Well as long as it’s you that’s being selfish.” He laughed out through the tears.

The both jumped as the school bell rang out in the distance, signaling the end of their lunch break. David’s head fell forward onto Patrick’s shoulder in defeat, much as it had yesterday, and it made Patrick laugh.

“Noooooo,” David whined into his shoulder, “I just got you, though.” He pouted.

“David,” Patrick laughed, pushing the other boy’s body away from his own and against the side of the shed. “I don’t want to be the reason you get detention and ruin our date.” He offered, again, very sensibly.

David groaned, “Okay, okay, fine, I’m going.” He stepped away from the wall as if about to walk past Patrick, but spun around at the last minute, switching their positions and pinning Patrick against the shed, catching any complaint Patrick might have had with his lips.

As much as Patrick will never admit it, he melted into it, breathing in as much of David as he could to get him through last period.

“Alright. Nope, David, we have to get to class.” Patrick managed to say out once he’d collected himself and managed to get untangled from David’s arms. “At least _I _am going to class, if you want to get detention, I can’t stop you.” He was going for stern, but judging from the look on David’s face it was not coming across that way.

“You’re unbelievably adorable, Patrick Brewer,” He smiled, confirming Patrick’s suspicions. “But fine, class it is.”

Patrick shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all, and how _not _like him this all was. He _really _didn’t want a detention noted on his record though, so he forced himself to turn away from an unfairly, deliciously disheveled looking David and head for his English class in the next building over.

“Hey Patrick?” He heard David call hesitantly from behind him. There was something about the way he’d said it that actually made Patrick stop and turn around to look at him, _even _with the threat of detention looming overhead.

“Yeah?” He waited.

“You didn’t ask Rachel out, right?” David was nervously biting on the very same lips Patrick could still taste.

Patrick shook his head so violently he felt dizzy.

“No. David, of course I didn’t. I’ll explain later, but…” Patrick, breaking his own rule, ran back over to David and pressed against him, his lips seeking David’s with an air of desperation he wasn’t even ashamed of. “It turns out, I’m very very, _exclusively_, into boys,” he whispered into his lips, before turning and running to make his next class.

* * *

Considering they’d been dating for less than 24hrs, and Patrick was still pretty firmly in the closet, a public date involving canoodling at the café wasn’t really an option at the moment.

Patrick had meant what he’d said though, he wanted to take David out on a _real _date. That’s what David deserved, and its exactly what Patrick wanted to give him. There were some other, _minor_, factors that made that slightly more difficult – they were 15, neither of them could drive, and Patrick’s entire bank account could _maybe _treat them to four dinners at the café if they strategically space them out.

So Patrick had used some creative problem solving, splurging on two bus tickets to Elmdale and two tickets to a Julia Stiles-a-thon at the Elmdale Art House, which had briefly made Patrick reconsider his definition of “art”, but he didn’t really care because he was _pretty sure _David would like it.

And he had.

Patrick hadn’t told him what the plan was, mostly because it was a very last-minute, trying to book things on his phone during English, _I hope this isn’t a complete failure of a date_, kind of thing.

David had been, _less than impressed_, about the bus element of their date, but when Patrick had realized they were the only ones on board, he’d pulled David against his side and tangled their legs together, and David had hummed happily against him. They’d chatted about a million different things in the 45 minutes it had taken to get from Schitt’s Creek to Elmdale, with no trace of an awkward silence to be found.

David had told Patrick about his shitty day – he’d woken to a crying Alexis, who had finally reached her breaking point. She’d offloaded all of her 11-year-old problems onto David _before _7 am, and it had all kind of gone down hill from there. He’d had gym again, and the teacher had made another snarky remark about David, then David had overheard a group of freshman mocking his mother after an unfortunate run in at the café that morning. Then David had English where he’d been given an assignment to do in less than a week on a topic he’d been taught nothing about, which _really _didn’t seem fair to Patrick, either. Then, on top of all that, after David had given up trying to understand the assignment, he’d made it to lunch, late, missing Patrick, and instead getting to walk in halfway through Rachel’s retelling how she “thinks this is it” because “Patrick had finally asked me out.”

Patrick felt horrible about that whole thing, from all sides. He’d explained what had _actually _happened to David, who had admitted he didn’t _really _believe her, but he was in a '_vulnerable'_ state, and he couldn’t be to blame for thinking crazy things.

It was, hands down, the best bus ride of Patrick’s life.

So he was already feeling like this date couldn’t get much better when they’d arrived, hand in hand, to the front of the Art House Cinema, where David had seen the poster for the Julia Stiles-a-thon, grabbed Patrick by either side of his face and smashed their mouths together on the sidewalk in the middle of Elmdale.

It was another moment where Patrick felt like maybe the sexuality crisis that was _surely _coming, would knock him off his feet, but it didn’t. It felt right, so right. That anyone walking past them could see this unbelievable boy, David fucking Rose, was _his. _

The actual movie experience was a whiplash of David weeping over a rom-com moment, _heavy _making out in the back of the theatre, and an ongoing competition to see who could come up with the best combination of the pile of movie-snacks Patrick had spent _way _too much money on. The winner was a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and three pieces of buttered popcorn squished between two crème-side Oreo cookies, for a sweet, salty, buttery delight that had handed David the crown.

Patrick had pouted about losing, and David had kissed that pout right off his face, his mouth tasting like a candy store.

They’d held hands almost the entire time, except when they were needed for snack assembly or weeping, and the whole thing was just perfect.

It was late by the time the movies had finished, and they’d _just _made it in time to catch the last bus back to Schitt’s Creek for the night. The bus stop was right by the motel David’s family was staying at, and he’d wondered if David knew that Stevie’s family owned it, but figured that fun fact could be for another time when David reached for him for the 100th time that night, this kiss no less perfect than the last 99. It might have been past midnight, but they were making out in Schitt’s Creek, right in front of the motel with David’s family right inside, where anyone who looked out their window into the night could see them, and Patrick _really really _didn’t care.

If falling deeply, madly, absurdly quickly, in love with David Rose was anyone’s idea of wrong, Patrick couldn’t explain how much he didn’t fucking care. Not a single atom of Patrick’s being could ever imagine this being anything but entirely, completely, wholly _right._

In the words of Julia Stiles: Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My GOD, I wrote THREE versions of this chapter and I'm still not thrilled with it, but it's just gonna have to do, you know? 
> 
> Also, there is a scientifically proven direct link between number of comments and how fast I can write these chapters, just a little fun fact for ya there. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story! We're halfway there!


	7. I wanted to hold your hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David really wants to hold Patrick's hand, but he really doesn't want Patrick to become the victim of a hate crime. He deals with it in a... less than ideal way.

David was _exhausted _in the very best way.

He’d had to sneak into his mother’s bathroom to pull off a concealer heist to try and deal with the dark circles that came along with the exhaustion, but it was worth it.

David had never been on a date as perfect and magical and happy as his first date with Patrick last night. He’d certainly never felt as _seen _as when he’d found out Patrick had bought them tickets to a Julia Stiles-a-thon – it’s like the boy could see right into his soul.

They hadn’t made it back to town until after midnight, and if David’s parents were ever remotely concerned about his whereabouts, he probably would have been grounded right on the spot. Instead, he’d been met with a very tired and angry Alexis, swatting at him with tiny limp wrists because _“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD” _and “_I DIDN’T NEED THIS ADDED STRESS TODAY, DAVID”._

He’d played it off with nonchalance, because to be fair, he was 15 and essentially parent-less, and should be able to have some fun every now and then. But when he’d noticed Alexis’ bed was still perfectly made from the morning, and the sheets on his own bed had been hastily ruffled, he’d realized what Alexis was trying to say is that she’d missed him.

So instead of locking himself in their tiny bathroom to decompress from the _literal _best night of his life, they’d squished together on David’s just-big-enough mattress, and he’d told Alexis the story of two boys who fell for each other in front of a locker in Schitt’s Creek High.

She’d swooned appropriately at all the right moments, squealed and clapped with delight. David historically hadn’t shared much of his dating life with his little sister, she’d been too young and it was, generally, an affront to anyone unfortunate enough to hear about the spectacular failures he’d managed to acquire in a relatively short amount of time. But he knew Alexis knew about most of it, somehow. She’d always known when to be more gentle with him, bicker with him less, after a particularly nasty breakup. So when she’d yawned through a _“I love this for you, David,” _David knew she’d meant it.

She’d fallen asleep tucked into his side, and it was all just a little _too _much sibling bonding to let her share his bed over night, so he’d carried her the two steps over to her bed and tucked her in. It was around 3 am by the time he’d set his alarm and finally let his head hit the pillow, so when that alarm started aggressively blaring just a few hours later, David was cursing the very fabric of time and space for existing.

It didn’t escape him that the whole way through him dragging himself out of bed, jumping in and out of the shower, pulling off the strategically timed concealer heist, and pulling a look together that _somewhat _made this _I’m so fucking tired _thing look like a _look_, his phone had remained motionless on his bedside table.

It was the first morning since they’d started talking that Patrick hadn’t texted him at 7:01 on the dot, always a stickler for respecting David’s boundaries – even when they’re as petty as _“not before 7 am, I’m not a morning person.”_

For the first time that morning, a smile had crept its way through the fiery rage of being awake – the thought of Patrick _also _moping around trying to get ready for the day like a zombie was too adorable to handle. David had a sneaking suspicion that Patrick _was _a morning person, but the kind of morning person that usually goes to bed no later that 9 pm like some kind of granddad. It was very Patrick, and the thought of it made David’s heart clench a little.

He didn’t know what he had done in another life to deserve every second he got to spend with Patrick, but if he ever figures it out he’s gonna have to find a way to send his previous incarnation a thank you note.

He somehow managed to get out the door and to the bus stop relatively on time, having forfeited breakfast in favor of hitting snooze one too many times.

It’s when he’s shoving backpacks and books into his locker with a grumbling stomach that his day starts looking up, when a handsome boy in a _letterman jacket _with dark circles matching his own slides up to lean his back against the locker beside his.

“Hey,” Patrick was looking at him in a way that made him want to simultaneously push him against that locker with his mouth and run away from the intensity of it.

“Hi,” David went with instead, a small grin forcing itself into something more against his own will. “You’re wearing a letterman jacket.” He pointed out, because _he’s wearing a letterman jacket. _

Patrick looked down at himself and then back to David with that face he makes when he knows David’s about to be ridiculous. “I am,” he agreed.

“I didn’t realize this was 1952,” David teased, but he figured by the way Patrick was watching his eyes track over the jacket and the way it fit _just right _on those shoulders, that Patrick knew he was actually very into it. “In fact I didn’t realize this was a baseball thing. Or a Patrick thing. Oh! Oh my god, it’s like I’m dating the captain of the football team…are there cheerleader tryouts I should be looking into?” David’s heart soared at the exasperated amusement dancing across Patrick’s face.

“It’s just a jacket, David. I can take it off if it’s really going to bother you,” Patrick replied, and _dammit_, he _was _onto him.

“No, no. No no no. No need for that. It’s fine. It’s good. It can stay.” David’s voice was betraying him by jumping up an octave.

_Why does he look so fucking good in this stupid jacket?_

“No, I insist, David. If the boy I’m _dating _doesn’t like the jacket, I can take the jacket off.” Patrick said, echoing the D word David had dropped earlier. David hadn’t thought that was new information, they _were, _by every definition of the word, dating, but as he concealed a shy grin at Patrick repeating it back to him, he realized it might be more the _“the boy” _part of _“the boy I’m dating” _that had significance to Patrick.

It was so easy for him to forget that this was new for Patrick, because he was so good at it. It was like someone had handed him the manual on _How to be The Perfect Boyfriend _and he’d studied cover to cover. David had realized, in retrospect, that he’d possibly subjected Patrick to a little more PDA last night than he may have been ready for, but the whole Julia Stiles-a-thon had made it very difficult to think straight. Patrick hadn’t said anything, though, and he hadn’t shied away from his affection, if anything, he’d encouraged it.

“_Fine_, Patrick. I like the stupid jacket, okay? You look…” David’s eyes shamelessly travelled over the boy in front of him again, “…Very _dashing _in your 1950s America sportswear.”

Patrick just grinned in response, apparently satisfied that he’d won this round of David Being Incapable of Admitting Feelings.

By this point in the conversation, David was finished doing what needed to be done at his locker, but he was stalling, because what he _really _wanted to do – what every inch of him was craving – was to slam this locker shut, pull Patrick against him, tangle their fingers together, and walk to homeroom hand in hand.

But he didn’t know if he could do that. He didn’t know if he _should _do that.

He hadn’t really been joking that first day he met Patrick, when he’d mentioned not wanting to be the victim of a hate crime at the hands of a closed-minded townie. There wasn’t really much he could do about it, he’d made a choice years ago to live and love loudly and proudly, and for him, that meant people usually only had to look at him to make the assumption that he wasn’t _straight_. He knew that meant he was a walking target, especially the further out you got from a big city, but he’d come to terms with it.

_Patrick_, however, was in an entirely different boat, in an entirely different lake in an entirely different province. He didn’t look or act any particular way that would make anyone do a double take. He could safely wander around anywhere he pleased and remain largely unaware and untouched by the kind of ignorance and hate David hopes he never has to see. And honestly, David loves that. He loves that Patrick can be safe and protected, because if David coming into Patrick’s life _ever _had _anything _to do with _Patrick _becoming the victim of a hate crime, David would literally never forgive himself.

David would take an entire town-sized angry mob ambushing him because he wears skirts and doesn’t care about what’s between the legs of the people he dates _any day of the fucking week _over a single person saying a single hurtful thing to Patrick.

_I can’t believe I kissed him in public last night, what if someone had said something that hurt him? So fucking stupid, David. _

Patrick seemed to have sensed a shift in David’s mood, because a gentle hand was gripping his forearm where it was hovering on the door of his locker.

“You okay?” He asked, voice tinged with a concern that was mirrored in his eyes and the knit of his brows.

_Snap out of it, Rose. _

“Mmhmm. Yep. Sorry, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night,” David tried to throw a playful smirk in Patrick’s direction as he carefully shut his locker.

It seemed to work, because Patrick laughed with a huff, “Who on earth is keeping you out so late? And on a _school night_? Scandalous.” Patrick joked.

David smiled at that, but he wasn’t in the mood to play along. He had just come to the realization that he could be the reason someone hurts this beautiful boy in front of him, and he can’t even bear the thought of it.

_No one would hurt him because he held hands with Rachel_, David’s brain suggested unhelpfully.

“I um, I actually need to use the washroom before class, so I’ll see you there?” David said, trying for casual but landing more onsuspicious.

David didn’t miss the way Patrick’s whole demeanor fell, just a tiny bit, and just for a second, but it did.

“Oh. Okay, yeah, no worries. I’ll save you a seat.” Patrick offered, and that look that had made David want to hide earlier was gone, now replaced with a confused searching, like Patrick was trying to piece together what had just happened.

“Great, thanks. Bye!” David muddled out awkwardly, heading for a bathroom he didn’t need, and quite frankly would never normally enter unless _entirely _desperate, leaving a letterman-clad Patrick watching him go.

* * *

David had just suffered through another English lesson, trying and failing to understand what exactly this assignment was asking him to do, when it was time for lunch.

This time yesterday, he had just about hit his limit. He'd ended up crying and feeling sorry for himself in the gross outdoors until Patrick had come and saved the day like the knight in shining armor he is.

Patrick had skipped rehearsal _and _baseball to spend time with him yesterday, and David was now feeling completely unworthy of it. Patrick was willing to give these things up, things he _loves, _and all David did was recklessly make out with him in the middle of the street where anyone could have seen. He wasn’t even _out _yet, David was pretty sure. Patrick hadn’t mentioned if he’d told his parents or not, but he hadn’t seemed to have told anyone at school. There were no more people staring at him in the halls than usual, and the only people paying attention to Patrick were his friends and the handful of people who came up to him wherever he is to ask him a question about band or theatre or baseball or _debating_, which he apparently somehow also fits into his week.

It was hard to get a read on how a small community as a whole would react to a queer couple, but David was pretty confident that any school in North America would have the same general reaction – a whole lot of attention and a whole lot of gossip. Neither of those things had happened yet, as far as David could tell, and he needed to keep it that way. At least until he could come up with some kind of plan to make sure all of this doesn’t end in Patrick getting hurt. 

He’d made it to the cafeteria before Patrick, which was pretty standard. Patrick had made a point of mentioning during homeroom that he _would _indeed be at lunch today, so David had begrudgingly accepted a tray of whatever monstrosity the school was serving today and parked himself at their table, squeezing in between Ted and Stevie. Stevie had looked up from her phone questioningly when he’d done that, probably wondering, understandably, why he hadn’t chosen to sit on the other side of the table that was entirely empty and for the taking. She hadn’t asked about it, though, and had gone back to her phone a moment later.

“Hey bud!” Ted had turned his attention to David, glad to have someone to talk to who wasn’t glued to their phone.

Ted had started telling some story about an old turtle he’d seen in a nature documentary he watched last night, and David was suddenly very aware that Stevie’s phone move was one of genius proportions if it meant she wasn’t directly subjected to _this _every lunch break. He was in the middle of a very in-depth summary of what _something something _global warming_ something something _rising temperatures_ something something_ meant for this specific old turtle when Patrick suddenly appeared in front of David.

It was almost like time was moving in slow motion as David watched Patrick take in the fact that David was sitting in the middle of the bench, when there was an empty bench right across from him that would allow them to sit together. He watched as Patrick’s eyes flicked from the empty seat, back to David, over to Ted (who was still talking about turtles), over to Stevie (who had looked up from her phone to watch whatever this was), then back to David, hurt flashing over his face before he finally set his tray down across from Stevie on the other side of the table.

Stevie was now the one whose attention was flicking between the two boys like this was some kind of high-stakes tennis match, apparently very aware of the silent awkward thing that Ted had not picked up on at all.

“So nice of you to join us today, Patrick,” Stevie said, which, honestly, bless her, because the silence was just about to kill David where he sat.

Patrick tore his eyes away from where he’d been intently watching David’s every move to send a small smile her way. “Mmm, yeah, I didn’t want you to miss me too much, Stevie,” he teased.

“…but it was _turtle-y_interesting. Even my parents liked it! It _tortoise _all something new!” Ted was the only one talking now, and even though he hadn’t been talking to anyone in particular, he was trying to make sure whoever was listening heard his harrowing puns.

Patrick smiled at him politely, which was more than David’s displeased grunt, but Ted seemed to have cottoned on the current vibe of the table and went back to eating his lunch without any of his usual “fun follow up facts!”

Patrick cleared his throat. “So, uh, how was English?” His leg brushed up against David’s under the table to notify David he was talking to him, because David had mostly been avoiding eye contact since Patrick had arrived.

David forced himself to bring his eyes up to meet Patrick’s, and was met with a barely-disguised sadness that made David want to pole-vault over the table and press kisses all over every inch of him until that expression went away.

Which is, fittingly, _exactly _why he shouldn’t be within reaching distance of him right now, because he doesn’t know if he would be capable of stopping himself from doing just that if Patrick’s skin was just _right there. _He pulled his leg back and out of reach with a jolt when he felt Patrick's leg against his again. The reaction _that _got from Patrick made David want to disappear into thin air because he apparently couldn’t be _with _Patrick without hurting him nor could he _not _be with Patrick without hurting him.

“It was, um, fine. Bad. The same. Whatever,” David explained, very eloquently. “How wasss youurrr…” David was racking his brain, searching his memories from that morning to see if Patrick had mentioned what class he’d had before lunch. David didn’t think he had, but he also didn’t remember telling Patrick he had English, but _of course _he knew, because he was infinitely better at everything. “Sci—en—ce..?” David just picked a class and went with it.

“Art,” Patrick corrected, but there was a small, amused smile on that handsome face now, and David liked that much better. “And it was good, we’re working on our self-portraits. It’s been interesting. Fun, even… getting to reflect on _who _we are, not to other people, but how we see ourselves,” Patrick explained. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, I guess, so it’s… cathartic, you know?”

David nodded, because he did know. He knew exactly what he meant. David had been there, trying to figure out who he _actually _was while 100 different people were trying to tell him who they thought he was or who he should be. It wasn’t really too difficult for David; he couldn’t remember a time when he _wasn’t _exactly who he was. He’d always been kind of like this, kind of different – the kind of different that makes him a shoo-in for the role of _Victim in a Hate Crime_. But still, he did get it.

“I’d love to see it when it’s done,” David said quietly.

“See what when what’s done?” Was the question that alerted David to Rachel's presence. She'd apparently arrived at the table just in time to butt in to a conversation that no one invited her to, _and _taken it upon herself to sit down next to Patrick. Not that David was biased against her or anything.

“Oh, I was just telling David about the self-portraits we’ve been working on in Art,” Patrick explained, his body language clearly shifting when Rachel sat next to him, almost like he was very not thrilled about David's front row seat to it. 

“Oh! Patrick’s is already so great! He doesn’t seem like he’d be much of an artist, but he’s got those steady hands and all that patience,” Rachel nudged him with her elbow at that, “there’s really not much Patrick _can’t _do, so of course, art is no exception.” She grinned, proudly.

Patrick was sitting there like a deer caught in the headlights, and if David wasn’t dealing with his own inner turmoil rollercoaster of emotions, he probably would’ve felt bad for him. But instead, jealously was seeping out of every pore at the thought of Rachel having seen Patrick’s artwork – this piece of himself that means so much to him – and the thought of Rachel having a _reason _to be proud of Patrick, like he is in any way something of hers to be proud of, it was too much.

“Mmm, I bet,” David grumbled, and the way Patrick’s eyes snapped to him confirmed that he had done a terrible job at masking how much he hated this.

“Well it’s no masterpiece, but I’ll take an in-progress picture next time, so you can see…” Patrick trailed off, still looking right at David, as he seemed to catch-on midway through how strange it might look to Rachel or Ted that Patrick would bother going to extra effort just to show the new kid his painting.

Thankfully, Twyla chose that moment to set her tray down next to Rachel, with a sweet, sing-songy ,“Hey guys!” Drawing attention away from the moment and shifting the mood of the group with her undeniably pleasant demeanor.

“Ooh, Patrick! I have so much to catch you up on from rehearsals yesterday!” She exclaimed, her big eyes somehow growing bigger with excitement before launching into a recap of the cabaret rehearsal Patrick had missed because David couldn’t keep his dramatic emotions in check. She managed to fill the rest of the lunch break with stories and tidbits from yesterday’s happenings, leaving David to wallow in his own self-pity and whatever the brown sludge on the menu was supposed to be.

* * *

The rest of the day had held a similar theme of wallowing, self-pity and failing to come up with a plan that let David touch Patrick the way he wanted to in public _without _dooming Patrick to get beat up by a gang of spiteful townie youths.

He couldn’t remember if Patrick had any extra-curricular activities on a Friday, but statistically speaking, he assumed he probably did.

David had finally made it to the end of his first week at Schitt’s Creek High, and coupled with the fact that he was already _so tired_ from getting barely any sleep last night, he was certifiably _exhausted._

So instead of heading to Patrick’s locker, hanging around like a lost puppy, being told by an annoyed Stevie that Patrick has (insert something that _of course _Patrick does on a Friday afternoon here) on Friday’s, which would require him to hunt down a new area of the school, David just went home.

Alexis was already there, with a bowl of microwave popcorn and a pillowcase full of Rose Video DVDs they’d saved from getting taken with the rest of their things. They’d tried to prioritize shoving only the best movies into the _pillowcase_ Alexis had been holding at the time, but in the chaos of it all, they had ended up with quite the mixed bag.

She’d proposed a movie night, and David couldn’t think of anything better.

Their parents were out for the night, the note they’d left hadn’t specified where, just that David should make sure Alexis gets dinner.

David was in the middle of rummaging through the horrifyingly sparse cupboard above the little kitchenette in their parent’s room (for movie appropriate snacks, obviously) when there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Alexis yelled from where she was still deciding on a movie in their adjoining room.

“Don’t talk to strangers!!” David yelled back, shoving the three different types of tea he’d been searching behind back into the cupboard and rushing over to try and stop his sister from getting kidnapped from this seedy hotel in the middle of nowhere like the most predictable episode of Dateline ever.

When he got to the door, Alexis was giggling about something with none other than one Mr Patrick Brewer.

“Oh my god, Patrick! That’s _so _funny!” Alexis giggled again.

“Okay, okay, alright, thank you, Alexis,” David said, giving his very best death stare to the 11-year-old currently standing between him and the most beautiful boy in the world.

Alexis rolled her eyes, but did as she was told and headed back to her movie selection, mouthing ‘_He’s a button!’ _far too loudly considering how close she was still standing to the button in question.

“Sorry about that,” David offered, when he was suddenly left standing in the doorway of the motel room that is now his bedroom, right across from Patrick.

“She seems great,” Patrick replied, earnestly.

“She has her moments,” David said in response, prompting an _“I CAN LITERALLY HEAR YOU!”_ from inside the room.

“Well in that case, should we take this outside?” Patrick suggested. “Because I really need to talk to you.”

_Fuck._

_This is it. _

_I’ve ruined it. _

_He’s breaking up with me before we’re even an official **thing**._

The panic must have shown on his face, because Patrick’s hand darted out to grab David’s, running his thumb over the back of David’s hand in little circles, “God, not like _that_, David. I just, I need to talk to you.” He clarified without really clarifying anything at all, pulling David by the hand out of the room and around to the red picnic table by the side of the motel.

David had been anxiously checking his peripheral for any onlookers, witnessing this public hand holding event. Thankfully, very few people come to this motel by choice.

“Sit.” Patrick instructed, pointing to the seat of the picnic table, sitting right up next to David once he was happy that David had done as he was told.

He still had their hands intertwined, and Patrick was now just staring at them, twisting one of the rings on David’s finger like that would help him work up the courage to say whatever it is he had to say.

“David, did I – did I do something wrong?” Patrick asked, quietly.

“What?” David replied, genuinely shocked by the question, because in what universe is it that _Patrick _would be the one to do anything wrong?

“Did I do something to upset you? Or have you… it’s okay if you’ve, um, changed your mind...” Patrick continued, his voice heartbreakingly small but face determined.

“WHAT?” David stammered.

_Changed my MIND!? What is happening??_

“David, what do you _mean_, _‘what!?’_ – you’ve been avoiding me all day! You wouldn’t even look at me at lunch, andyou purposely sat next to _Ted _so you wouldn’t have to sit next to me, then on one of my only afternoons off, you just _left _without even saying bye to me. I had to ask Stevieif she’d seen you, and she want on this whole rant about not being a secretary?? I just... I don't know, David. I feel like I’m justified in thinking something is happening here.” Patrick explained in an irritatingly calm and sensible way.

But, _oh._

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t, um, think about that. That…that’s how it would come across to you. I just, uh…um. Okay so I’m pretty sure saying it out loud is going to make it sound really stupid, but I’m just going to be honest because _anything _is better than you thinking I’ve _changed my mind_, _Patrick. _Like I could change my mind after you took me on the greatest date of my entire lif—“ He was cut off by Patrick’s mouth against his own. It was everything he’d been needing all day and so much more, but they were still in public, and anyone could see, and so it had to stop.

“Okay, no,” David said firmly, taking Patrick by the shoulders and gently pushing him back. “That is - - that is what I’m having trouble with.”

“…Kissing me?” Patrick was squinting at him now, like this nonsense would make any more sense from a slightly altered view.

“_No, _Patrick. Obviously, no. Not _kissing you. _It’s more like, I’m having trouble _not _kissing you. When I’m near you, or when I look at you, I just want to kiss you, or hold your hand, or put my hand on your knee, or just, I don’t know, I just want to _touch _you.” David admitted.

Patrick was still squinting at him like he was speaking another language.

“Okay..." Patrick said slowly. "I’m not seeing the problem, here, David.” It was becoming quite clear that that patience Rachel had mentioned earlier was not _completely _limitless.

“I WANTED TO HOLD YOUR HAND THIS MORNING, OKAY!?” David blurted out, much louder than was necessary.

Patrick jumped at the sudden change in volume, a surprised amusement settling on his face at the words.

**“…**What?” Patrick was trying not to smile, probably to look supportive and understanding, but he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“This morning, by the lockers, it took everything in me not to grab your hand and walk down the hall and into homeroom _holding your hand_.” David explained _again_, because how was he not getting this?

“…Okay?” Patrick repeated, shaking his head with the words.

“I can’t do that, Patrick! People would have seen and they would’ve known about us! I don’t even know if you’ve told your parents, or whoever you want to tell. And once people know, there’s no taking it back. It’s a small town, Patrick, as much as I wish with everything I have that it wasn’t true, there’s going to be people who don’t like it, who don’t think this is _right_. People could _hurt _you, all because I wanted to hold your hand, and I don’t know what to do with that.” David literally spelled it out, because now he was the one running out of patience.

“_David." _Patrick sighed, as if this very legitimate concern was more exhausting than legitimate.

“What!” David threw back, defensively.

“I don’t care.” Patrick said, his features serious.

“Of course you do!” David replied in a higher pitch than necessary with some flappy arm movements that weren't entirely necessary, either.

“I don’t care.” Patrick repeated, his eyes never wavering from the intense eye contact David was breaking every 3 seconds.

“Okay well _I_ care. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if someone hurt you because of me.” David admitted, a little quieter than before.

Patrick signed again, seemingly resigning himself to the fact he would have to say more than the same three words on repeat for them to move on from this.

“_David_, I can look after myself, okay? I’m not worried about that; I don’t care what those people think. If I want to hold your hand, and you want to hold my hand, then we’re gonna hold hands, and if anyone has a problem with it they can go fuck themselves because _I don’t care._” Patrick explained, his hands grounding David, one on either shoulder.

“Andit wouldn’t be _because __of __you, _David. I’m gay! I’m super gay. And it’s taken me a while to come to terms with the fact that I might not fit people’s perceptions of that, that maybe people _don’t _look at me and assume that I’d rather hold your hand over Rachel’s, but it’s the truth, it’s who I am. I’m not going to hide it, because some people don’t like it. And I know, I do know, that this _panic _you’re having, isn’t actually about that, because the final piece of the puzzle for me was meeting _you, _and seeing how loud you love and proud you are of who you are and how you don’t try and be anything other than exactly who you are. _You _are why I finally feel like I know who I am, rather than just who people have told me that I am. _You _make me feel right, David. So I don’t give a fuck about the rest of it.” Patrick said, that eye contact never faltering.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_,” Patrick teased.

“I guess I was, just, um, worried. _Maybe _I scared myself a little at the thought of you getting hurt.” David offered, because _yep_, Patrick maybe made some valid points there.

“Yeah. It’s okay, though, ‘cause do you remember when you were at my place, and you made that joke about being the victim of a hate crime?” Patrick asked.

David nodded.

“Yeah, well I had only known you for a few hours and I was ready to commit literal murder for you, so…” Patrick admitted with a smile.

“_Murder.” _David repeated, unconvinced.

“OKAY, maybe not _murder, _but at least some grievous bodily harm.” Patrick corrected.

“Well you aren’t allowed to go to jail for me either, so please refrain from that as well.”

“I’ll do my best.” Patrick agreed.

David leant over and pulled Patrick into another some-what public kiss, unabashedly thrilled by the content little noises the kiss was able to draw out of Patrick.

David pulled back, their faces still only inches apart. “So, um… you said tonight is one of your nights off?” He asked. 

“Yep,” Patrick confirmed with a growing smile. 

“Did you, uh, maybe want to stay? I promised Alexis we’d have a movie night, so if you’re not too sick of rom-coms after yesterday…”

“I would love to, David.”

“Okay, but you’re sure? Cause my sister will be there, and we don’t really have any good snacks.” David knows how important good snacks are in every situation and would not think less of him for backing out at this news.

“As long as you’ll be there, I’ll be happy.” Patrick said, that look that made David want to run and hide was back on his face.

“Oh.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Okay, well good. But don’t believe anything Alexis says about me, it’s all lies and she’s 11 and that’s known to be a very untrustworthy age.” David warned, because boy did Alexis have _stories._

“Sure, David.” Patrick laughed.

“I’m serious”. He was.

Patrick pulled him in for another kiss.

“So which actress will be gracing the screen tonight? Another Julia? A Jennifer?” Patrick asked, an amused glint in his eyes.

“I actually don’t know, it’s Alexis’ turn to pick, but I’ve taught her everything she knows, so you can expect only the finest quality rom-com for your viewing pleasure this evening, sir.”

“Mmmhmm, I’d expect nothing less.” Patrick laughed, as they made their way hand in hand back to the room that, just now, started to feel a little bit more like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys came throughhhh with those comments, thank you! 
> 
> I didn't want to prove science wrong, so this chapter is here as quick as possible, but maybe possibly riddled with typos and that weird thing italics sometimes does where it runs into the next word, I'm not sure, cause it's 2 am and I just want to get this to you ASAP! 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! I love to heard from you all x


	8. Just like a cute little slumber party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis has declared this a slumber party, and honestly everyone is pretty happy about it.

Patrick was happy. So happy.

This day had started out so great, turned weird and sad in the middle, then shot right up again at the end. It was exactly the kind of emotional rollercoaster Patrick had been riding all week.

Now he knew where he and David stood, knew they were on the same page about this new thing between them, and he was just _happy_.

David had his hand clasped firmly around Patrick’s, and Patrick still couldn’t get over how soft those hands were. How right they felt in his own.

Patrick was being pulled back into the motel room, through the door he’d just been knocking on, terrified, but now full of hope and happiness and his hand full of David’s.

Alexis was still hovering over the DVD collection she’d spread over their small table, but the DVDs lost the battle for her attention when she saw the two stumble back through the door.

“Hey…is everything okay?” Alexis asked, cautiously, eyeing where their hands were still intertwined with relief.

Patrick was so, so happy that the answer to that question was _YES_, that he had to stop himself from screaming it at the child in front of him. Instead, he squeezed David’s hand and felt him squeeze back, and let David do the talking.

“Mmhmm, yes. Actually, Alexis, I wanted to _officially _introduce you to my, uh, Patrick.” David smiled, lifting the hand that was holding onto Patrick to gesture _at _Patrick, which resulted in Patrick hitting himself in the chest.

“Hi again Alexis, I hope you don’t mind me crashing your movie night with David.” Patrick said with a soft smile. He really wanted Alexis to like him, and really hoped she wouldn’t care that he had turned up uninvited to their sibling bonding night.

Patrick was an only child, so he didn’t really know how these things work, but David had seemed to think it would be fine. The shock on Alexis’ face at the suggestion looked to confirm his thinking.

“No! Not at all! This is going to be SO fun! Ohmygoddd David! It’ll be just like a cute little slumber party, let me find my Cosmos!” Alexis bounced as she spoke, bouncing out of the room as she headed through the door that separated the two rooms the Rose family called home.

“Don’t worry, she won’t find them,” David whispered into his ear, sending an electric shock shooting down his whole body.

“I don’t even know what cosmos are,” Patrick admitted into the limited space between them.

David laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead, “Of course you don’t. Just be thankful there are no ‘_How to tell if he’s REALLY into you’_quizzes in your immediate future.”

“Mmm, and how is it you know with such confidence that she won’t find these quizzes, David?” Patrick teased, because, really, David had walked himself right into that one.

David’s whole face scrunched up in a way that shouldn’t ever be attractive but of course, it was. He let out a defeated sigh, “They _may _or may notbe under my bed”.

The thought of David curled up in bed, filling out a quiz in some magazine and _thinking about Patrick_, made Patrick unreasonably happy.

“Was there some reason you needed such a quiz lately?” Patrick prodded, stealing a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No, nope. No reason at all.” David _giggled, _and pulled Patrick into him once more.

* * *

Alexis had decided on _The Notebook _which, according to David, was a little too cliché of a rom com choice, but Patrick had never seen it, so David had let it pass.

All the lights had been turned out, and their pizza order had been placed along with a follow-up text from Patrick that magically extended the delivery boarder into Schitt’s Creek.

Alexis had set herself up on the floor between David’s bed and the TV, wrapped up in a blanket twice her size and had been very loudly sighing every time the male lead entered the screen.

David and Patrick had squished onto David’s small bed, forcing them to sit exactly as close as they wanted to be sitting. About ten minutes into the movie David had yanked the covers from underneath them, bringing them back up and over to cover the both of them and press his face into the softness of it. Patrick had taken a moment to snap a mental picture of that – a completely content looking David, only lit by the light off the TV, hair a little messed, peeking out from behind the blanket he was holding over the bottom half of his face.

Patrick couldn’t help himself, he had to reach out, under the covers, and grab the hand closest to him from where it was pressed to his face, pulling David impossibly closer and into his side. He lifted his arm around David’s shoulders, a thrill coursing through him at the press of David’s body against his own. David glanced up at him from where his head was resting on his chest, meeting him with a smile that would’ve knocked Patrick off his feet if he wasn’t already lying down.

When David’s attention was back on the movie, Patrick lent over the few centimeters it took to press a slow, gentle, closed-mouthed kiss into the hairline of the boy in his arms.

“I’m happy you’re here,” David whispered into Patrick’s shirt.

“Me too.” Patrick agreed, seizing the opportunity to run his fingers through the impossibly soft hair that was pressing up against his neck.

_So happy. _

* * *

The movie was a lot sadder than Patrick had anticipated, and as much as he wouldn’t admit it, he was glad he had David in his arms while he’d watched it – just so he knew where he was and that he was safe and that he _remembered _him. Remembered _them._

Both David and Alexis had sobbed at various points in the film, and pretty much everyone in the room has gasped in appreciation whenever Ryan Gosling’s shirt had come off, which was new for Patrick.

The first time it’d happened, David turned to look at him with a shit-eating grin, which Patrick had kissed right off his face. If he was being honest, though, it had felt really _good _to let himself acknowledge the way his breathing sped up at the scene.

They hadn’t bothered pausing the movie when the pizza arrived, but Patrick’s life had been threatened if he dared spill anything on David’s sheets. They were organic bamboo, and David had been the only one to think to bring his favorite sheets when they were kicked out of their house, so they were a prized possession amongst the Roses. Thankfully, he’d made it through multiple slices without incident, and David had rewarded him with a quiet exploration of his neck during a particularly slow part of the film.

Patrick had never wanted it to end – he wasn’t all that invested in what was happening on the screen, but being able to hold David so close without anyone interrupting them had led to what was debatably the best few hours of Patrick’s life. 

David seemed to agree, because although he _was _clearly very invested in what was happening on the screen, he was also teetering on the edge of sleep, curled up against Patrick’s side, clinging to any part of him he could reach.

Patrick was pretty sure David had fallen asleep at one point, he’d felt his breathing even out and what was very possibly drool wet through his shirt. It was hard to tell, though, since his shirt was already soaked through with movie-related tears, but the idea of David feeling safe and happy enough to drift off in his arms made Patrick _really _want it to have been a thing that had happened.

When the universe hadn’t answered Patrick’s prayers and turn this specific DVD into an eternally extended version of _The Notebook_, and the credits started to roll, David had crawled up to meet Patrick’s lips in a slow, tired kiss.

“_Ew, David,” _Alexis had shrieked when she’d flicked the lights back on and was met with the sight of her brother’s tongue in Patrick’s mouth.

Patrick had had to physically push David off him, which was a triumphant featconsidering how much he wanted that moment to never end. Alexis had a point though, no one wanted to witness their sibling making out in a bed barely an arm’s width away from their own. So David had grumpily stumbled off to the bathroom to get ready for bed, clearly still half asleep given that he’d just left Alexis alone with Patrick, and if Patrick had to guess, he’d say that completely awake David would have gone pretty far out of his way to avoid that happening.

Patrick was left sitting on the edge of David’s bed, examining the small collection of books stacked on the nightstand beside him.

“His skincare routine is very involved, but every step is actually _very _important, so I can’t even tease him about it.” Alexis explained when she saw Patrick look over at the bathroom door.

“Ah, I see,” Patrick smiled. Of course skin that soft doesn’t just _happen_.

“Yeah, so if you want to play a game while you wait, I have some super fun slumber party games I used to play with my friends every summer in the Hamptons! It was basically just like one big sleepover; it was the best.” Alexis’ gaze had drifted off into the distance, kind of like characters in movies do right before a dream sequence.

“Right, you had a beach house there, David said?” Patrick remembered David telling him how hard Alexis had been taking the move – that she had been _made _for their old lives – she missed the attention and the buzz of being surrounded by people who admired her all the time.

“Mmhmm, it was so bright and airy and _beachy_. It was my favorite of all our houses. I think when I grow up, and can leave here, I’ll move to the beach.” Her attention seemed to be a bit more back in the present, so whatever daydream she’d been off in had apparently finished.

“That sounds like a great plan.” Patrick agreed. Unlike David, would would stick out like a sore thumb in a beach town with his head-to-toe black aesthetic, Alexis would fit right in. Everything about her was _flowy _and bright.

“Thank you, I know.” She smiled. “So I’m thinking we start with a classic.” There was a look of mischief on her face that really showed off the family resemblance, and Patrick was suddenly a little frightened. “So, Patrick… truth or dare?”

“_Okay I __heard that, Alexis! Please stop harassing Patrick he does not want to play truth or dare with you.” _David yelled from the bathroom.

Patrick waved his hand and rolled his eyes at that, “Truth.”

Alexis’ eyes lit up as she twirled her fingers together in a way that seemed to defy the physics of wrists and knuckles.

“Okay…oh this is SO fun…alright. Patrick, are you _really_dating my brother, or is this just an elaborate set up so that David can spend less time trapped in the motel with my parents? Cause, like, historically, you aren’t really his type. You’re like nice and cute and sweet and a little button, and he’s so…not.” Alexis explained gleefully.

“_ALEXIS I SWEAR TO GOD IF I DIDN’T HAVE A VERY EXPENSIVE MASK DRYING ON MY FACE RIGHT NOW!” _David called through the door again.

Patrick laughed. “Oh, no, I very much am dating your brother. He’s actually pretty great.”

Alexis rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “UGH, fine. Whatever. Okay, my turn,” she said. “Ummmmmmm….” She was shimmying her shoulders like deciding between truth and dare was so unbearably exciting that it couldn’t be contained in her tiny body.

“Okay, truth.”

Patrick didn’t really know what kind of questions one is supposed to ask a pre-teen in a game of truth and dare, the standardly scandalous questions seemed wildly inappropriate. Instead he decided to use it as a chance to check in on the youngest Rose, see if her week had turned around since the early morning “breakdown” that had fueled David’s bad day yesterday.

“What was the best part of your first week of school?” Patrick went with. It seemed safe enough, if not a little boring.

“Ugh, Patrick, that’s so boring.” Alexis groaned, flopping back on her bed dramatically.

“You’ve gotta answer, it’s the rules!” Patrick urged, feeling a bit like he was middle aged and trying to connect with a youth.

Alexis rolled her eyes, but sat back up again with a sigh Patrick had heard come out of David’s mouth at least once every day that he’d known him.

“Fine, um…well for the first few days I didn’t really have any friends, like, I didn’t know where to sit at lunch and stuff. Like, on Wednesday, I ate lunch with this girl named Kelsey, and she’s like, the _horse _girl. She talked about horses the _entire _time, Patrick, and then she galloped off to get another pudding cup and I was very very concerned my social standing had dropped at least 15 points. But then on Thursday these two girls from my class, Steph M and Becky, came up and told me they liked my dress, and asked if I wanted to sit with them at lunch, and they’re like, actually really cool? And I sat with them again today, and we talked about makeup and who the prettiest boys are and it was a really cute look for me.” Alexis explained, her wrists still contorting at very concerning angles as she spoke with her hands. That was another thing she had in common with David. Patrick didn’t think they’d appreciate him pointing out how similar they were, but it made Patrick happy to notice these little things.

“That’s great, Alexis! Maybe you should invite them to do something after school sometime? Maybe even another slumber party,” Patrick suggested.

“Yeah…yeah maybe I will! Like go to the _mall _or something. That’s so cute!” She giggled, like the idea of going to the mall with your friends was an entirely foreign concept. “Okay, your turn again. Truth or dare?”

Patrick didn’t want to know what an 11-year-old’s brain could come up with on the dare front, and figured Alexis was probably using the game to get to know him a little better. So at the risk of coming across even more boring, he again went with, “Truth.”

“When did you first know you _like _liked David?” Alexis asked without taking a beat.

Patrick waited for David’s strained wail of frustration to float from the bathroom, but it never came. Patrick knew David would still have been listening, so he took a moment to think about whether he should even bother hiding how embarrassingly fast he’d fallen for the other boy. In the end he’d figured, since they hadn’t even known each other for a week, that it was already very obvious and probably a very reciprocated experience.

“Hmm…well, one of my teachers told me we had a new student starting, and that it was my job to help show them the ropes of the school, help them get settled, and she sent me an email with some details about them,” Patrick started.

“It was David!” Alexis squealed.

Patrick laughed, “It was. It was David. And I knew a little bit about your family, I knew you owned the town, so I googled him, which is a little embarrassing. But the first time I saw his picture, I felt these butterflies in my stomach, which I didn’t expect.” Okay so _maybe _he was altering the timeline of things a little, but it was still mostly true.

“I hope you didn’t do much googling after that, ‘cause there are things you should never have to see on there, Patrick,” Alexis teased.

“No, well I felt a little creepy, so I didn’t dig much further than that.” Patrick lied, because he was already bearing his soul to the little sister of the guy he was falling for, he didn’t need to get caught up in the nitty gritty details.

“Oh, well you _definitely __shouldn’t _google ‘_Moira and David Rose Christmas Number_,’ then,” Alexis winked.

Something clattered and fell to the floor in the bathroom at that, but David still hadn’t said a word.

“I will keep that in mind,” Patrick laughed. “Anyway, those butterflies I thought I’d felt were nothing compared to when I actually saw him in person. He was nervous and adorable and, don’t tell him I said this, Alexis, but I’m pretty sure he wanted to kiss me right there by my locker.” Patrick smiled thinking back to the way David had stared so unabashedly right at his lips.

“He did! Patrick! He did! I remember this part, and he so did. I love that.” Alexis squealed again.

Patrick had assumed, since Alexis had known who he was when he’d introduced himself at the door earlier that night, that David had told Alexis at least a little bit about him. Hearing that David had apparently told her the whole story with _parts _and everything, made Patrick’s chest light up. Not to mention that she’d just confirmed David had admitted to wanting to kiss him the second they’d met.

“Well, I was pretty sure I liked him a whole lot right then and there, so later that afternoon when I was helping him with the math quiz, when I knew how smart and funny and brave and kind he was, and when I saw the way he wears his heart on his sleeve, that’s probably when I knew I really really _like _liked him.” Patrick knew the expression on his face probably made him look like a cartoon character in love, but he’d long lost control of anything his face did at the thought of how much he liked David.

“Ew!” Alexis grinned, everything about her was giving off the opposite vibes to what her mouth was saying. “If you weren’t talking about my gross annoying brother, that would have been _so_sweet.”

Suddenly the bathroom door had creaked open and there stood David, his skin somehow even more bright and fresh than it had been before he went in. He eyed the two of them suspiciously.

“Okay, so whatever _this _is, it needs to stop immediately.” David declared, waving his hand between them.

“Ugh, David! I’m just getting to know your boyfriend!” Alexis groaned back at him. Patrick didn’t miss the way David didn’t even react to her use of the word _boyfriend,_and he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Nooo, you’re just _grilling _Patrick about our relationship and it’s none of your _business.” _David bickered, thrusting his pointed finger towards Alexis as he spoke.

“But it’s so cute though, David! He’s only saying nice things!” Alexis sighed, entirely unfazed by the wild hand gestures David was throwing in her direction.

David’s eyes finally drifted over to meet Patrick’s with a small, bashful smile.

_Oh, he’d definitely been listening._

“I _know_, Alexis. I was literally a foot away from you, I could _hear you,” _David bit back.

“Okay, well, I didn’t hear you pipe up to complain about the last question, David, so…you’re welcome.”

“Alright, thank you Alexis, that is more than enough from you. It is also past your bedtime, so, night night.” David had apparently had enough sibling bickering for one night, pulling the older-sibling _I’m in charge _card out earlier than Patrick expected.

“David, no!! It’s a _slumber party!_” Alexis whined.

“Yes, so _slumber_. Bye.” David waved.

“Ughhh, you’re the _worst.” _Alexis declared as she stomped off into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

“So…” David hovered awkwardly by Alexis’ bed. “You googled me, huh?” He smiled.

“I did,” Patrick nodded. “You wanted to kiss me the first time we met, huh?” He threw back, standing up and taking a few steps towards the other bed.

“Mmhm, I did.” David nodded, that signature smirk plastered over his features.

“Well since you didn’t get to then, maybe you could kiss me now, instead?” Patrick flirted, a smirk of his own creeping its way onto his face.

“I think that’s a very good idea.” David agreed, taking a few strides towards Patrick and meeting him in between the the two beds, their lips colliding in a battle of soft and hard and slow and hurried.

“How long do we have until - -” Patrick gasped, ripping his mouth away for as little time as possible to ask the question.

“We still have time; she’ll stall ‘cause she doesn’t want to go to bed.” David smirked as Patrick kissed down his neck while he spoke.

“So, say if I wanted to make out with you on your bed…?” Patrick whispered into David’s jaw, just below his ear.

“That could be arranged,” David confirmed, as he walked Patrick backwards towards his bed, Patrick switching their positions right before they reached the mattress, so he could push David down onto it and crawl onto his lap.

_“Fuck.” _David whispered at the sight of it, his hands holding Patrick in place by his hips. Anything else he was going to say was swallowed by Patrick’s mouth on his.

“Mmm” Patrick agreed against his lips, as he licked into the other boy’s mouth with such vigor that David let out quiet moan.

David moved one and then both hands up into Patrick’s curly hair, he tugged at the strands and reveled in the feeling of the softness of it between his fingers.

“So good,” David whispered into Patrick’s mouth when he pulled back a little to breathe. “You’re so good.”

“Yeah, baby. You look _so good _like this.” Patrick agreed, still making sure to keep his voice below a whisper so as not to accidentally traumatize Alexis.

David was tracing Patrick’s jaw with open-mouthed kisses when Alexis’ voice came through from the bathroom.

“Hmm! Well that was a nice shower! I think I’ll make my way back into the bedroom now!” Alexis said very pointedly through the door. Patrick rolled off to the side of David with a giggle. Noticing the door still hadn’t opened, David yelled out.

“Oh my god, Alexis, what do you think we’re_doing _while my 11-year-old little sister is literally two steps away?! You can come back in!” 

Alexis peeked around the door cautiously, confirming that the coast was clear before wandering over to her bed.

“Okay, sorry, I was just _checking! _I don’t need any more childhood trauma, David. You know what my therapist said, it wouldn’t be a cute look for me.” Alexis replied defensively, throwing back the covers and climbing into bed.

“Okay, well _I _don’t need the trauma of my little sister walking in on me, either, so you don’t have to worry about that.” David replied, all too confident for a boy who Patrick had just been straddling not 30 seconds before.

“Whatever, David. I’m going to bed. Goodnight Patrick!” She called out sweetly, switching off her bedside lamp and plunging the room into darkness.

“Uh, well I guess I should go.” Patrick whispered to David, suddenly very aware that it was probably late and David was tired.

David wriggled off the bed and pulled Patrick with him out the door and into the cold night air.

“You don’t have to go, you could stay. Uh, my parents might come home at some point, though. Actually, yeah, you don’t need to meet them, ever, so.” David was thinking out loud and Patrick could barely handle how adorable David’s thoughts were.

Patrick laughed, “I’d like to meet them, actually. And, uh…” Patrick’s mouth was about to say something he didn’t even know he wanted, but as soon as the thought was there, he knew how true it was. “Um, I’d actually really like to introduce you to my parents?” Patrick said nervously.

“Oh.” David replied, clearly a little surprised at that. “So they know about me?” He asked.

“Actually, no. Not yet. I haven’t told them, um, any of it. But I want to tell them, I want them to know.” He smiled.

“And you…want me…_there? _When you tell them?” David asked slowly.

“Um, yeah. I think so, yeah. If that’s okay with you?” Patrick ran his hands up and down David’s arms, needing something to do with the nervous energy that was suddenly overwhelming his body.

“Yeah, yes. Of course. If that’s what you need, I’ll be there.” David nodded, pulling Patrick close by the hips and kissing the side of his forehead softly.

“Um. I was thinking of maybe telling them tomorrow? If you’re around?” Patrick was gripping David’s shoulder a little too tightly, but David didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll be here. Did you want me to come over?” David asked softly.

“Um…no. I think, can I come and see you first? We can walk back together? I just. I think I’ll feel more brave if I get to see you first.” Patrick admitted.

“You’re already so brave, baby,” David kissed that promise into his lips. “But yes, whatever you want. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, David,” Patrick pressed into the taller boy’s cheek, and David turned his head slightly to catch those lips with his own.

They stayed like that for a while, pressed together in the night, arms wrapped tightly around one another, lips still learning and mapping out each other’s skin.

“I don’t want you to go yet.” David whispered into Patrick’s hair.

“I don’t want to go yet.” Patrick whispered back.

David sighed into the smaller boy’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

Patrick shook his head, completely bewildered by the boy in front of him.

“Always.” Patrick promised.

“And, uh. Thank you for what you did for Alexis tonight. She really needed it. You being here, I haven’t seen her that happy in weeks. So, thank you for that.” David shifted awkwardly as he spoke.

“You’re a really good brother, David. She’s lucky to have you.” Patrick smiled.

“She deserves more than me, but I’m what she’s got.” David shrugged.

“Well that’s just not true. I’ve only spent a few hours with her and I can tell you with 100 percent certainty that little girl thinks the world of you. We both do. We were _bonding _over how great you are.” Patrick laughed. Alexis might not have been using those words exactly, but it was definitely what had happened.

“Okay, well I could hear you the entire time, and it didn’t _sound _like that’s what was happening, but if you say so.” David was trying and failing to hide the grin that had traveled to the side of his face.

Patrick’s phone buzzed in his pocket, making them both jump. He pulled it out to see a text from his mom.

**Mom **

**10:23pm: Home soon? **

“Sorry, it’s my mom. I should’ve texted her to let her know I would be back late, but I was…distracted.” He smiled, and was met with a very proud smirk.

** _10:24pm: On my way Mom. Be home in 15. _ **

** **

**Mom **

**10:24pm: Stay safe, sweet boy x**

“You’ve gotta go?” David pouted.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta go.” Patrick confirmed, without the pout but with an equally as displeased tone. He brought his hands up to hold onto either side of David’s face, kind of squishing his cheeks together in an unbearably adorable way. “Thank you. For tonight. For this week. For moving here. For letting me know you. Thank you.” Patrick said, forcing David to hold his gaze.

“Always.” David whispered back.

Patrick closed the miniscule distance between them, pouring all the things he knew, all the things he felt, into the kiss. When he finally pulled away, David looked completely wrecked, and Patrick genuinely considered texting his mom to say there’d been a change of plans, but he got himself together just in time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll come by around 12?” Patrick asked, knowing that anything before 10 on a weekend was likely out of the question.

“Sounds perfect. Just text me when you’re here, you don’t want to risk walking into whatever family drama is most likely going to be happening at the time.” David joked, but it was also pretty clear he wasn’t joking.

“I like all your drama.” Patrick smiled.

“Okay, but seriously, don’t knock on the door.” David warned. “You don’t know what you’re in for.”

“Okay, David. I will _text _you tomorrow around 12, and meet you by the picnic table. Happy?”

“Happy,” David agreed. “Very happy.” And he kissed that happiness into Patrick’s lips, where he felt it travel into his blood stream and straight into his heart.

Happy.

_So happy. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be a shorter chapter, but it is...not. At all. Whoops. 
> 
> Just a whole lot of fluffy boys in love and a little bit Alexis.
> 
> I love to hear your thoughts, so do leave a comment if you have thoughts to share! 
> 
> Also, this chapter is dedicated to Dan Levy in a Canadian Tuxedo.


	9. Mom, Dad, this is David. He’s my, uh, we’re, um… Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David meets the parents.

David had been sitting on the curb for 40 minutes by the time Patrick came wandering down the street towards the motel, dirt kicking up behind him as he walked. Behind David was the havoc-wreaking scene of a spontaneous Rose family barbeque, complete with shrieking and multiple things definitely burning.

Patrick seemed to be taking all of _that _in as he approached David, a look of confused amusement turning into something softer as he greeted David with a smile and an adorable wave.

“Hi,” Patrick grinned.

“Hey,’ David returned, with his own dopey grin to match.

‘So, what’s happening here?” Patrick asked, gesturing to the wild zoo animals trying to salvage an array of very very very well done meats behind them.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Think some of the other guests are having a barbeque or something. We should go, it’s rude to stare.” David tried.

“Uh-huh. So that’s not Alexis who is currently throwing a tantrum in the dirt because “everything just tastes like burnt!”, then?” Patrick teased with a smirk.

David risked a glance over his shoulder to find that, yes, actually, that was Alexis really, truly, physically sitting in the dirt and crying over burnt meat. The sight of her white embroidered [tunic](https://modesens.com/product/ulla-johnson-yelena-cotton-gauze-embroidered-tunic-dress-abstract-white-1480811/) mingling with the mud was almost enough to convince David to intervene. Almost.

“Jesus Christ. That’s Ulla Johnson,” David gasped.

“Who is Ella Johnson?” Patrick asked, surveying the group for the fourth member David was referring to.

“The dress! It’s _Ulla _Johnson! It’s designer! She’s sitting in the dirt!” David shrieked.

Patrick seemed to find the destruction of a perfectly good piece of designer clothing very amusing, judging by the look that little outburst was met with.

“David, whilst I understand this is a very high-stakes situation, I think you’ll find some detergent and a washing machine will make everything right in the world again for Ulla.” Patrick suggested with an amount of patience David still hadn’t found the limits of.

“Well it’s hand wash only, actually, so that’d be very incorrect.” David whispered, hauling himself up off the curb to be standing in front of the smaller, very patient, boy.

“Mmhmm.” Patrick smiled, finally getting his arms wrapped around David’s waist and leaning up to greet him with a kiss. It hadn’t been that long since they’d done this, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Patrick pressed into David like he was drowning and kissing David was coming up for air. His grip on David’s hips was vice-like, and for a fleeting moment, David thought about how it would probably leave a bruise, and he was very, very okay with it.

David had kissed lots of people before – all different types of people who kissed all different types of ways, but no one had ever kissed him like _this. _Like they’d been searching their whole lives for something and they’d somehow found it in his lips, in his mouth. Like they needed to feel him and hold him _so _close, because they were scared he might disappear. No one had cared about him leaving before. Usually it would have just saved them the trouble of having to leave him, first. He might only be 15 verging on 16, but he’d already geared himself up for a life of being loved and left, light on the love and heavy on the left.

David never wants to be kissed any other way than the way Patrick was kissing him right now. This boy was going to ruin everyone else for him, forever. David was suddenly pulled out of that very depressing thought by the sound of someone pointedly coughing, making Patrick jump back with a fright. He quickly reached out again to thread his arm around David’s elbow as they turned to take in the intruder.

Next to them was one Stevie Budd, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“Hey losers,” she smirked.

“Stevie, hey!” Patrick greeted, squeezing David’s arm in response to the grunt David had supplied as a _hello, you just interrupted the best kiss of my life and I’m not happy about it._

“If your family burns my motel down I’m gonna be real pissed. But only because I’ve housed my extensive collection of decorative skeletons in the attic, and not because I care about the family business.” Stevie threw to David, as if any element of that sentence was okay.

He’ll circle back to the decorative skeleton collection later because, “Um, I’m sorry - - _your _motel?” David squeaked.

“Mmhmm,” Stevie hummed.

“Oh yeah, David, Stevie is first in the line of succession for the throne – you’re standing across from the future owner of the Schitt’s Creek Motel.” Patrick grinned, clearly very amused that David didn’t know this vital piece of information.

“There was a brief concern that cousin Earl was going to contest my rightful place as the-only-blood-relative-with-more-than-one-brain-cell, but he went to juvie like, the next day, so. Lucky me.” She deadpanned. 

“How did I not know this? I literally live here.” David questioned. Sure, maybe 100% of the conversations he’d ever had with Stevie were about Patrick’s current whereabouts, but this seemed like highly relevant information.

“Well I don’t literally live here; I work here on weekends. And by “work” I mean I am physically here on weekends and am paid for my presence. Don’t ask me to do anything, though, because I won’t.” She supplied, eyeing David suspiciously as if he were about to ask her to change his sheets or fetch him a towel, which…he won’t do _right _now. He has plans with the koala clinging to his arm right now, but… both of those things are almost certainly happening later.

“What are you doing here anyway, Brewer?” She asked, looking between them curiously as if she hadn’t just walked up on the two of them with their tongues down each other’s throats. 

“Um, well, David’s coming over to my place, so I’ve come to collect him.” Patrick explained, nerves seeming to give-way to confidence somewhere in the middle of the sentence.

Stevie’s eyebrows shot up so high on her face that David would be offended if he wasn’t also shocked that Patrick had decided this was a good idea. Coming out to his parents? Yes, David was a vehement supporter. Telling his parents that he was actually dating David instead of the girl they’d been dreaming he’d marry since the day his was born? It just didn’t seem _GREAT _from where David was sitting.

“Wow, David, meeting the parents! Big step. Don’t fuck it up.” Stevie teased.

“He won’t, they’ll love him,” Patrick said quickly, before any of the number of self-deprecating things hovering on David’s tongue could come out. Patrick’s hold on him tightened impossibly again, a silent plea for his attention. Giving in, David met Patrick’s eyes and found a face so sincere and determined and _happy _that he actually believed him for a moment. David was smiling back at him because he couldn’t help it, he was stuck staring and smiling at this perfect, beautiful boy, and it was the most wonderful problem he could ever think of having. 

“Hey, losers? If you’ve finished eye-fucking each other, I just wanted to let you know that I’m glad you sorted your shit out. I’m happy for you. Like, seriously, Patrick you’re like my best friend, and David I actually really like you, and you deserve to be as happy as you clearly make each other. But don’t tell anyone I said that and never bring it up again or I’ll beat you up. Also Mutt is throwing a house party tomorrow, and I expect to see you both there. Closets are optional, but not preferred, Brewer. I mean, take your time, but… don’t hide yourself away for too long, yeah? I’m gonna start physically puking if I have to take the brunt of this new-relationship cheesiness much longer.” Stevie said with a sincerity that sounded very foreign coming from her mouth, but it still made David feel like he was about to cry.

A quick glance at Patrick confirmed he was feeling the same way, if the genuine shock and blinding smile where anything to go by.

“Thank you, Stevie. We love you, too.” Patrick teased, knowing full well that he was the only one in the conversation not allergic to sincerity and apparently living for the chance to draw it out. “Let me start with telling my parents, and then we’ll go from there. Speaking of my parents, actually, we better get going if we’re going to make lunch, David.” Patrick said, checking his watch. He was a stickler for being on time, and David thought it was adorable. He was probably the only 15-year-old in Canada with an actual watch that he actually used to tell the actual time. _God, he was so fucking adorable. _

“Alright, well I _will _be seeing you both at the party, that’s non-negotiable. I’m off to finish a nail-biting game of solitaire on my Aunt’s ancient computer. Good luck! Both of you!” She winked, and David kind of wanted her to take him with her to the land of solitaire and ancient computers where there were no doting, loving parents who had expectations and standards for the people dating their son. But then Patrick was smiling at him with that _smile _and pulling him towards the road that led to his house, and David knew that nothing in the whole world would be able to stop him from doing this terribly, awfully, scary thing, because Patrick wanted him to, and needed him to, and so goddammit, he was going to do it.

* * *

Patrick had kept his arm looped around David’s for the entire duration of the walk. They weren’t holding hands or anything, there was nothing specifically romantic about it, but it felt important. It felt like a big step for Patrick, for him, for them. Patrick had filled David in on his (very) loose plan as they weaved through the streets of Schitt’s Creek – they were going to have lunch with his parents, and Patrick was going to tell them he and David were dating. David had nodded along to the plan. David had also suggested that Patrick do all of this when he wasn’t there, that maybe he could come and meet them _after_, but Patrick was adamant that David be there. “It’s not the fact that I’m gay, specifically, that I want to tell them about, I don’t really see why that’s anyone’s business – people don’t have to come out as straight, you know, it’s stupid. I just want them to know about _this_. About you,” he had said, and he’d melted David’s heart in the process. It wasn’t until they were a street away from Patrick’s house that David realised his problem with the plan. He stopped dead in his tracks, and Patrick kind of flung backwards into him, due to their arms still being entwined. 

“What are you going to say when you introduce me to them?” David asked.

“Umm, I don’t know, David. I didn’t write a script. Maybe… Mom, Dad, this is David. He’s my, uh, we’re, um… Oh.” Patrick whispered, looking at the ground.

“Yeah. I’d, um, I’d be okay with you telling them I’m your boyfriend. If you…um, if you wanted that, um, if you wanted to, I mean. If it made it easier, or whatever.” David stumbled through, trying to say just enough, but not too much, and probably saying it all wrong. He couldn’t make himself look at Patrick, so instead he was forced to wait in the deafening silence for Patrick to tell him how stupid of an idea that was.

“Yeah?” Patrick asked, finally, his voice small and quiet and just hopeful enough that David’s head snapped up to see the smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah,” David confirmed, unfurling his arm where it was bent around Patrick’s to reach for his hand, locking their fingers together with a squeeze.

“Would that…uh, be just for this? Just to…make this easier? Or…” Patrick tested, infuriatingly nervous for someone who had wormed his way directly into David’s heart and apparently didn’t know it.

“_UGH_, fine! Patrick! Do you want to be my boyfriend? Because I really, really like you and I really, really want you to be my boyfriend and _not _just for this. _Not _to make things easier. But because I want that. If you…want that.” David flung their adjoined hands around dramatically as he forced himself to say the stupid, corny, sincere things he thought for sure Patrick already knew, because how _couldn’t _he. David felt like he was walking around with a giant I’M IN LOVE WITH PATRICK BREWER tattoo on his forehead.

Patrick was laughing, mostly not at David, but probably a little bit at David, and nodding so fast he looked like a bobblehead. “Yes, yes. David, yes. I really, really want to be your boyfriend. So much. Yes.” He laughed, reaching up to pull David into a hug. When they pulled apart, Patrick cupped David’s face in his hands for just a moment, gently stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Thank you, David,” he smiled.

David rolled his eyes. He’s pretty sure Patrick would thank him for accidentally running him over with a truck, if given the chance. “Alright, now. Are we ready to do this?” He asked instead.

“Let’s do it.” Patrick nodded, leading them hand-in-hand to the front door of the Brewer residence.

* * *

From the second they’d walked through the door, David had kind of lost his mind. He felt like a tourist in their living room. Patrick’s mother, Marcy, had met them with a smile, feigning annoyance at Patrick for being late for lunch, and beaming at the fact he’d brought a friend over. Patrick’s dad, Clint, had been helping chop vegetables for the salad in the kitchen while watching some sports game on his iPad, catching Patrick up on the score and the highlights he’d missed while he was out. Marcy had made lasagne, from scratch, and maybe he wasn’t a tourist maybe he had entered a movie. Maybe he was living in a movie, where a perfect family sit down together for lunch and bond over sports and make lasagne from scratch.

The plan had gone out the window as soon as lasagne was mentioned – David hoped Patrick would understand that he was a man of priorities and, whilst Patrick _did _out-rank lasagne, he hadn’t had homemade lasagne since Alexis scared off their Italian nanny 6 years ago. He was pretty sure Patrick would also out-rank homemade lasagne, but he just didn’t have all the data required to make that call right now, is all he was saying. So Patrick had set the table and talked about sports things, and David had asked Marcy questions about the lasagne, and no one had uttered the word “boyfriend” yet, but they were getting there.

It wasn’t until the lasagne was divided up on the plates in front of them and the salad bowl was being passed around that the plan came back into motion.

“So David, I know you and your family are new in town, how are you all settling in?” Marcy asked, right as David shovelled a whole lot of pasta into his mouth. David tried to both savour and quickly swallow the bite and the whole table giggled at the turn of events, Patrick’s eyes shining with amusement and something that could easily be mistaken for love.

“David passionately appreciates the culinary arts, mom, so you’ll have to give him a minute with your world class lasagne,” Patrick joked.

“I can’t argue with that! Your mother’s cooking is something of its own art form. We’ve been spoilt, Pat. When you’re off at college you’ll dream of this lasagne.” Clint laughed.

“Oh stop it you two. I’ll teach you to make it before you head off to college, honey. No son of mine is going to live off of ramen and soda.” Marcy retorted, shaking her head at their shenanigans.

“Gosh, imagine how many girls you could impress with cooking skills like that, son. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” Clint said, and David kind of choked on the mouthful of lasagne he had been frantically chewing. It was a combination of David really wanting Patrick to know how to make this lasagne and really not wanting him to use it to impress anyone else, as well as the unfortunate timing of Clint’s remark that had David spluttering like he was raised in a barn. Patrick reached his hand out under the table to land on David’s knee, holding onto him and taking a deep breath. _Oh Jesus, here we go. _

“Um, actually, speaking of, there’s something I wanted to tell you guys,” Patrick started, sending a nervous smile David’s way. “David, uh, isn’t just a friend. We’re… together. He’s my boyfriend. And I’m, _really _happy. He makes me happy. So, I hope you can accept that,” he said with an assuredness that made David’s heart burst with pride.

It felt like time stood still while Patrick’s parents processed what he’d said. They both looked at Patrick, then at David, then at the two of them, together. And then they were smiling, big and genuine, and David wanted to cry with relief.

“Oh, honey. Well that’s wonderful! I told your father I thought I saw a special spark between you two that day at your baseball game, didn’t I Clint?” Marcy beamed.  
  
“She did, Pat. She did. Your mother always has a sixth sense about these things. I uh, I’m happy you told us, kiddo. We love you always, you know that? And I’m, uh, I’m real proud of you. We both are. And David, you seem like a great kid. It can’t be easy going through what you’ve gone through, so I’m glad you two have found each other.” Clint managed. It was clearly not the easiest thing in the world for him to say, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he meant it.

David figured things were going well enough at this point that he could go in for a second bite. He watched Patrick watch him shovel the fork through the plate and into his mouth, smiling with his mouth full when Patrick shook his head with amusement.

“Yes, my sweet boy. We love you more than anything in the world. If you make each other happy, then that’s all we care about. And David, sweetheart, consider yourself welcome here anytime. I want to learn all about the boy who stole my Patrick’s heart, but I’ll let you eat first, dear. Oh! Do we get to hear about how you met? You know I love these stories.” Marcy gushed.

“Thank you. Mom, dad, I love you guys. I was kind of worried about telling you, but I just really wanted you to know,” he grinned, squeezing David’s knee.

David managed to swallow the second bite in time to actually have some input in the conversation for the first time since they sat down to eat. “And um, thank you, as well, for the very warm welcome. And the lasagne. It really is lovely to meet you both, it’s not hard to see why Patrick is so great,” David admitted, and apparently the whole Brewer clan have the ability to look like a human version of the heart-eyes emoji.

“Flattery like that will get you everywhere, David,” Marcy joked. “You get an extra big piece of pie for dessert just for that.”

“Um, PIE? You didn’t mention pie, Patrick!” David squawked. It was imperative that he know about all elements of the meal PRIOR to the meal commencing to make sure he left space for the most important things, and Patrick _knew_that.

“Oh, sorry, David. I was slightly distracted by the whole coming-out thing; it must have slipped my mind. Do you think you’ll be okay? Will you be able to make room? I know this is a very serious concern, but I have seen you eat an entire confectionary stand and then go back for extra popcorn, so just know I believe in you.” Patrick teased, and the fond look David caught Patrick’s parents sharing almost made up for Patrick’s pie-sized betrayal.

“You’re lucky I like you, Brewer,” David glared. Patrick’s parents weren’t even trying to hide their amusement now, laughing at the two of them with such love that David wanted to hide in the rest of the lasagne.

“I am,” Patrick agreed softly, catching David’s eyes with his own and holding him hostage there.

David knew it was embarrassing to be making love-eyes at your boyfriend in front of his parents, but he physically couldn’t tear his eyes away if he tried.

“Gosh, do you remember when we used to look at each other like that, sweetheart? How old were we when we met, what…18? 19? Young love, there’s nothing like it,” Clint smiled, pulling David out of Patrick’s trance to bashfully finish up his pasta.

“That reminds me, I need to hear all about how you stole my boy’s heart, David! I’ll trade you extra pie for all the sappy parts Patrick will try to make you skip,” Marcy teased, and Patrick turned red before David even opened his mouth.

It was somewhere in the middle of recounting the week it took for him to fall in love with Patrick that David realised he’d definitely fallen in love with Patrick. It should have shocked him, or scared him, or made him want to hide in the apple pie that had magically appeared, but it didn’t. It made him want to stay there forever, to graduate from tourist to local inside this foreign home where the Brewers existed and all loved each other, and apparently, David, completely.

David would give up everything he lost a million times over it meant he ended up right here, right now, with Patrick’s hand on his knee and Marcy’s pie on his plate and Clint’s laugh ringing in his ears.

Nothing had ever felt more like home than this, so David made sure to include every last sappy detail of their story so far, delighting in the oohs and ahhs from across the table and the embarrassed groans from right beside him.

Yeah, he could do this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ............ I am VERY sorry for that delay in getting his chapter up. Truly. Very sorry. I'm at the tail end of my last semester of my degree, so the time I should have spent writing this I spent reading SC fan fic instead, and just generally not using my brain. 
> 
> I missed these two, though. I really did. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience, and to the few of you who sent lovely comments encouraging my return, you the real VIPs, if we were doing that ❤️
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Next chapter hopefully coming within the week.
> 
> p.s. I was SO dang close to getting this up on National Coming Out Day, that would have been something, huh! Oh well, lets all just pretend.


	10. David is my boyfriend, so yeah.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutt has a house party. It's a beautiful mess.

Patrick just about lost the ability to function when David (finally) came out of the motel room’s front door. He was dressed in his signature head-to-toe black and white colour palette – black skinny jeans with rips at the knees, a white tee with a black print of sharp teeth and a bleeding lip, finished off with a black leather jacket that was the current cause of the weakness in Patrick’s knees. 

“Holy  _ fuck _ ,” Patrick breathed. 

“What? Too much?” David questioned, looking over his outfit sceptically. 

“David, I - - You look  _ good _ . Like,  _ really  _ good. At the risk of sounding like a rom-com character, I genuinely think you might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” 

The grin that broke out across David’s face at that made Patrick consider learning every line in every romance movie since the beginning of time. 

When David was within grabbing range, Patrick reached out for two handfuls of leather jacket and pulled him snug against him. Patrick pressed his lips against David’s as hard as he could justify considering they were out the front of his family’s room, but he needed to explain  _ just  _ how good he thought he looked. 

When they eventually needed to part for air, David was giggling – his whole face lit up in a way that made Patrick want to burst into tears with happiness and pride and love because  _ he did that. _

“You’re nice, I like you. I think I might keep you around if those compliments keep coming.” David grinned, poking Patrick in the chest. “Speaking of things I like, this particular bluish ensemble you have on is surprisingly really working,” David acknowledged.

It had taken Patrick longer than he would ever admit to pick an outfit for tonight. He had stood in front of his closet for 15 minutes trying to remember what he had worn to parties in the past, and had come up empty. He’d concluded that it was probably just whatever he had already been wearing from the day, he’d never really had a reason to care. But  _ David  _ was going to be there, and although no one else would know it, he and David were going to be there  _ together _ , so he had to look good. His mom had found him stumbling around his room like a confused zombie about 30 minutes after that and helped him pick out a dark, almost-black denim jacket to wear over a white shirt with his favourite pair of jeans and the boots his parents had given him for Christmas. She’d said he looked “dashingly handsome,” but he took her word with a slice of bias. 

Needless to say, the glee that sprung up through his whole body at David’s approval was  _ real. _

“Surprisingly?” Patrick repeated, feigning shock at David’s well-intentioned snobbery.

David rolled his eyes, and somehow his whole body too. “You’d look good in a garbage bag, that’s not the point. This outfit isn’t terrible, it’s kind of cute,” he smiled, dusting something off of Patrick’s shoulders.

“ _ You’re _ kind of cute,” Patrick replied against David’s lips, aiming for a repeat of the make-out session from a few minutes before. Instead, David grabbed his own handful of Patrick’s denim jacket and pushed him back just far enough for Patrick to see his adorable scowl. 

“Um,  _ kind of _ ?” David prompted, and Patrick couldn’t help the grin that was threatening to escape.

“Very. I have the cutest, most adorably snobby boyfriend in the entire world,” he corrected, as David finally allowed him to pull him close enough for their mouths to meet.

“Excuse you -- would a -- snobby boyfriend -- agree to go -- to a rural house party -- hosted by a person -- named  _ Mutt _ ??” David managed to ask in between kisses.

Pressing one final smooch to David’s lips, Patrick attempted to straighten David’s jacket back into place. “Oh, David. Think less ‘house’ and more ‘abandoned barn’.”

“WHAT?” David screeched.

“Come on, Stevie will hold it against us in very cruel and unusual ways if we leave her to fend for herself for too long. Let’s get a move on, David,” Patrick laughed, encouraging his boyfriend along with a whack of his hand on his backside that earned him a glare he wanted to bottle up and keep forever. 

* * *

The night before, at Patrick’s house, they’d spent a good while talking about the party. 

Firstly, whether or not they should go, and while David made a very strong case for doing something just-the-two-of-them instead, Patrick had convinced him that Stevie wasn’t a person you wanted to mess with. He’d learnt very early on in his friendship with Stevie that you should pick your battles carefully, and this wasn’t a hill he was prepared to die on, and he certainly wasn’t prepared to let David get dragged down with him. Neither Stevie or David would admit it, but the two of them were a wonderful, witty match, and Patrick was already convinced Stevie would end up liking David more than she liked him in no time – he didn’t want them getting off on the wrong foot.

Once that much was settled, Patrick had started listing out the pros and cons of just showing up hand-in-hand and letting whoever cared enough to notice, notice. To his credit, David had tried valiantly to play the supportive boyfriend, but had clearly stopped listening after the third time he’d earnestly and patiently said “there’s no right or wrong way to do this, Patrick, it’s just whenever you’re ready, we’ll do whatever you’re ready for.” 

Patrick had talked himself in circles and ended up at the conclusion that as much as he wanted to claim David as his own in front of every person in the town and the next ten towns over, he still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Rachel. So, for tonight, at least until Patrick could get a second alone with Rachel, they would just be friends. Maybe  _ some  _ flirting, Patrick is only capable of so much. 

David had agreed it was a solid plan, again reiterating that he was down for whatever Patrick wanted to do. He’d then proceeded to push Patrick onto his bed and make-out with him until Marcy came to ask if David wanted to take home the leftover pie, and found two shell-shocked guilty faces looking back at her – one from the bottom of the bed and one from the floor where she’d just heard them fall as she’d opened the bedroom door. 

David had texted Patrick to complain about, and update him on the progression of, the purple bruise on his hip multiple times since. 

And if Patrick texted back a series of violins, he wasn’t going to be made to feel bad about it. It had been  _ David  _ who had pushed him onto his bed and kissed him senseless, after all. 

* * *

The barn sat on the outskirts of the Schitt family’s acreage, meaning there were no neighbours for yonks, no noise complaints to be had and no police showing up to investigate any potential teenage drinking or smoking. It was one of the perks of small-town living, though it had always surprised Patrick how easy it was to get away with breaking this many rules in a barn owned by the mayor, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

The two of them had found Stevie lurking around the hoards of partygoers, hunting for the next boy she was going to make her prey for the night. She had seemingly landed on a kid from another school who Patrick vaguely recognised as Jake from an opposing baseball team. 

“Oh? I don’t know, I think you’ll find woodworking lends to some  _ very  _ useful and transferable life skills,” Stevie was flirtatiously offering as Patrick approached, David not far behind him. “Patrick! You made it! And just in time! I’m almost out of punch,” she said, handing her plastic cup to Patrick expectantly. 

“Nice to see you too, Stevie. Remind me again why you can’t refill your own drink?” Patrick teased, knowing already that he would do it anyway. 

“I am a  _ single woman,  _ Patrick.” Stevie sighed, very much in the direction of Jake who wasn’t so much listening to the conversation as staring at something over Patrick’s shoulder. “I can’t just let strangers fill up my drink at a random party, that’s not  _ responsible. _ ” She explained, as if the concept of filling up your own drink was so bizarre it shouldn’t even be considered. 

Stevie’s attention flicked behind him now too, where Patrick could feel David hovering a foot or two outside the circle of conversation. 

“Ohh, David! To what do we owe the pleasure of your standard-lowering attendance? Bored? Lonely? Nothing better to do?” Stevie teased. “Baby’s first SC house party! Tell me, David, how does it feel?” she prodded. 

“I’m going to need a stiff drink to get through this. Stiff.” David threw back. 

“Patrick, David needs punch too,” Stevie declared. 

“Oh does he?” Patrick asked, turning to look at David for the first time since they entered the barn. 

_ Fuck, he was still just as gorgeous.  _

Patrick was met with a small, amused smile that just about confirmed to him that Stevie and David together were going to be a force to be reckoned with. He couldn’t wait. 

“Yes, please. No ice, your water is fishy,” David offered. 

“Fishy, right. Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we,” Patrick was pretty sure he was sending David heart-eyes, but it was so far out of his control at this point there was really nothing that could be done. “Okay, I guess I’m off to get the punch, then. Don’t go too far,” he said looking at Stevie, but he made sure to brush excessively close to David on his way to the drinks table. 

It was going to be a long night.

He  _ really  _ needed to find Rachel.

* * *

As he made his way back to the group, balancing the trio of drinks, Patrick was happy to see that David had moved further into the group, even though his attention was blatantly being directed at the snack table. Not that he could blame him, one can only listen to Stevie boldly flirting with Jake for so long. 

Patrick was about to announce the arrival of the drinks when Jake suddenly turned his attention to an unaware David. 

“And who is your friend here?” Jake asked Stevie, nudging David’s shoulder with his drink. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

David’s head whipped back around to the two of them, and Patrick had to stifle a grin as David wiped at the condensation the drink had left on his jacket. He realized he was now the one hovering awkwardly behind the group and moved around to the space next to Stevie so she could take back her drink. 

“What? Oh, sorry I just realized there’s a very well-stocked snack table over there. I’m David. David Rose. I’m new, so.” David said with a shrug, his eyes flicking to Patrick’s for the briefest second – enough to tell Patrick that he was happy he was back. 

Stevie grabbed the cup Patrick was wiggling at her, freeing up his arm to finally take a swig of the very potent punch.

“Nice to meet you, handsome,” were the next words out of Jake’s mouth, accompanied by a wink towards David. 

In the five seconds that followed, David’s eyes flew to Patrick’s in a panic, clearly not knowing what he was supposed to do in this situation, as Stevie accidentally spat her drink back into the cup with a wheeze, leaving Patrick sputtering on the mouthful of punch he’d just choked on mid-swallow. 

“I’m…I’m gonna…so I’ll just…” David stammered to Jake, before heading off in the direction of the snack table. 

“I still have his punch,” Patrick stated to no one in particular, before turning and following David’s flight path. 

“Thanks for the refill!” Stevie called out with a cackle. 

He  _ really  _ needed to find Rachel. 

* * *

Patrick approached a mid-snack David much like one would approach a dog mid-dinner – carefully and void of surprise, advancing from the side so he could see he was coming. 

He had just stuffed a handful of something cheesy into his mouth when he spotted Patrick. Patrick watched him hesitate for half a second before continuing to load up his plate. It was stupid, but it did something to his heart that David didn’t feel like he needed to pretend to be someone else around him. He was right, of course, Patrick was already head-over-heels crazy about him and his shame eating ways. 

“I see you found the snacks okay,” Patrick smiled, quickly reaching up to wipe a collection of crumbs off the corner of David’s lip. 

“Yes. They’re actually pretty good. A staggering array of dairy-based products, even.” David agreed, his expression impossibly soft. 

“Mmm. That’s Mrs Schitt’s specialty,” Patrick nodded, scooping up a cheese-covered nacho chip and popping it in his mouth. 

“ _ Mrs Schitt _ , Mrs Schitt? Like, our teacher, Mrs Schitt?” David squeaked, his perfect eyebrows heading in the direction of his perfect hairline. 

Patrick snorted – he wouldn’t be surprised if David failed to pick their homeroom teacher from a line-up – the boy pays very little attention for someone with such impeccable attention to detail. “Yeah, Mutt’s her son. I’m sure you knew that.” 

“Yeah I might have, but I did not know that she would be supplying the snacks for the party her son is throwing for her underage students?” David giggled, “even the hired help pretended they didn’t know when we threw parties. Our parents would have shipped them to a deserted island if they’d found out they not only knew but  _ made the snacks _ .”

“He usually tells her it’s a baseball breakup. Though it’s not even the end of the season, so you still make a valid point,” Patrick frowned, the slight insanity of it dawning on him.

“Mmm. So…you having a good time?” David asked with a smirk, swaying enough casually to bump his shoulder into Patrick’s. 

“Not really, no,” Patrick smirked right back. 

“Oh? Why is that? Did something happen, or…?” David teased, finally reaching out for the drink Patrick had gone to get him 15 minutes ago. 

Patrick caught his arm before he could step back and whispered, “I would tell you how badly I want to kiss that stupid smirk off your stupidly handsome face, but I don’t think you need any more compliments.” 

David took a sip of his drink, smiling over the rim of the plastic cup. “Oh, I always need compliments.” 

“Well, I need to find Rachel, as soon as physically possible. Are you gonna be okay to ward off all your hoards of admirers by yourself?” Patrick teased, hoping he didn’t sound as jealous as he annoyingly felt. 

“Hmm, yes, I’ll stay by the snacks and scare them away with my shame eating,” David smiled, the amusement glimmering in his eyes suggesting that Patrick was being about as subtle as Jake had just been. “Good luck, handsome,” David finished with a wink. 

* * *

Patrick had completed a few laps of the barn and Rachel was nowhere to be found. True to his word, every time he’d looped past the snack table, David was still there, scrutinizing a different cheese-covered abomination each time. On his fourth trip through the room, he’d finally stumbled upon Twyla and Ted, both quite evidently either high or drunk, wrapped up (quite literally) in a game of Twister. 

“Hey, have you guys seen Rachel?” He called out, hoping they could hear him over the music and the sound of the blood that was surely rushing to Ted’s head in that position.

“Brewerrrrrrr! Brewski!!! The Brewernator!! Twy, look! It’s Patrick! Brewer!” Ted exclaimed from where he was twisted under Twyla’s knee. Twyla, in an attempt to wave hello, lifted an arm which was apparently integral to the structural integrity of the whole game, resulting in a pile of drunk, flailing limbs on the barn floor. 

“Oh dear god,” came David’s voice from behind him. Patrick turned to see a very unimpressed David taking in the, admittedly, sad scene before them. 

“Whoops-a-daisy!” Ted sung as he stood up and straightened himself out, “guess we’re on to spin the bottleeee!” He said, reaching a hand down to help Twyla up before bouncing off somewhere else. 

Twyla stood exactly where Ted had left her, standing too close to David and smiling at his shirt. “What is she… ew…Patrick, what is she doing?” David whispered, horrified. 

Patrick laughed, he couldn’t help it. Poor high Twyla was trying to make sense of David Rose by just  _ looking really hard _ , as if mere mortals would ever be able to uncover the other-worldly enigma that is his boyfriend. “Hey, Twyla? You good?” Patrick asked, with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly her attention snapped from David to Patrick, her wide-eyed smile bore right into him. “Mm, Pat-rick?? Patrick! Rachel is…not here. Yet. Recital. With the violin. She had that. Then here. But not yet,” she said with a grin. “I’m going to spin the bottle.” And with that, she was off towards the circle that had started to form in the corner of the room. 

“Yeah, that’s a hard pass.” David declared, following Patrick’s eye-line to the game. 

“Come on David, where’s your sense of adventure?” Patrick teased. He actually wasn’t that keen to watch David kiss anyone else, but they were supposed to be pretending like they were just friends for tonight. 

“In the Seychelles, I left it on the boat after I was broken up with by an Italian Harry Styles lookalike  _ whilst  _ parasailing,” David replied without missing a beat. 

All Patrick could really do was take all that on board and add it to the ever-growing mystery of David Rose. “Noted,” he nodded with an amused smile. 

“Brewer, come on, next to me, I need my wingmannnn!” Ted demanded, apparently having made his way across the room just to round up Patrick and bring him to the circle. 

“I don’t think a wingman is required in this particular scenario but okay,” Patrick laughed, winking at David as he made his way over to the circle and claimed his place next to Ted. Jake was sitting to the other side of Ted, and Twyla was beside him. Stevie was making her way over to the circle dragging a very displeased David along with her. 

“Sit. Sit, sit, sit. Rose, sit your ass down on this goddamn dirty-ass barn floor before I make you,” she ordered, pulling on his jacket sleeves as she sat down directly across from Jake. “Don’t stretch the jacket! You’re stretching the jacket!” David squawked, suddenly finding himself on the floor in the name of saving his jacket. 

“Fuckin’ disgusting,” he huffed, folding his legs up like a wonky pretzel to ensure as little of himself was touching the floor as possible, and shooting daggers across the circle to Patrick to make sure he  _ knew  _ the suffering that was occurring.

“I’ll spin first!” Stevie called, reaching for the bottle and very conspicuously calculating the perfect spin to reach Jake. 

To her credit, she did pretty fucking well. She overshot by just enough that it landed on Twyla, and dutifully crawled across the circle to plant one on Twyla who still looked to be on another planet. “Oh wow. Thank you!” Twyla smiled, then got up, left the circle and disappeared into the crowd. 

“Oh-kay,” Stevie frowned, settling back into her spot next to David. “Jake, I guess you go next since you’re the closest?” She suggested, and Patrick had to give it to her, the girl was persistent. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jake agreed, leaning forward and spinning the bottle with a swift flick of the wrist. 

And the bottle land on David. 

Of fucking course it did. 

David was trying and failing to conceal just how amusing he found this turn of events, his eyes flicking between Stevie and Patrick like he wasn’t sure whose reaction he wanted to see more. 

“Do you think that maybe landed between us? I think that could be me?” Stevie tried, whether for Patrick’s benefit or her own, Patrick couldn’t know for sure, but probably the latter. 

“No, I know  _ exactly  _ who it landed on,” Jake smirked, crawling across the circle towards David. 

“Oh, um – –“ David muttered, right before Jake grabbed his face and kissed the words out of his mouth. 

Objectively, it was a pretty tame kiss. It didn’t last a particularly long time, there was no tongue, no open mouths. From where he was sitting, Patrick could see that David had kind of  _ grimaced  _ through the whole thing, so that was something. However, from Patrick’s slightly biased perspective, they might as well have been fucking in the middle of this stupid fucking goddamn party that they never should have come to. 

And now David was  _ looking at him  _ like he’d  _ told him  _ that they shouldn’t have come to this stupid fucking goddamn party and looking  _ very infuriatingly pleased with himself about it.  _

_ _

_ Where the fuck is Rachel? _

“David. Dude. It’s your turn. Could you please spin the bottle so this game can end and the party can be over?” Stevie grumbled.

“I…what? Yeah, fuck, fine, whatever,” David sighed, nudging the bottle with one finger like it was a cesspit of germs. 

And the bottle landed on Patrick. 

Of fucking course it did. 

Patrick’s eyes flew to David’s. The hesitation and empathy in David’s was met with a fire that had just been poked in Patrick’s. 

“Patrick…” David warned quietly, but Patrick was already across the circle, pulling David into him with two familiar fistfuls of leather, as he crashed his mouth into David’s. 

Objectively, it was not a tame kiss at all. Aside from the ferocity with which the two were groping at each other, there were  _ definitely  _ open mouths and  _ definitely  _ tongue and it had  _ definitely  _ gone on longer than is socially acceptable for a polite spin the bottle smooch. 

It was when Patrick pressed his weight into David, and David ended up on his back, with Patrick on top of him, that whatever spell the room had been momentarily under broke, and the circle erupted into a chorus of whistles and cheers, and a scattering of “Oh my god!”s and one “fucking idiots” from right beside them. 

Feeling as though his point had been made, Patrick let up, pulling David back up with him. 

“Oh, so you two...” Jake said, pointing his finger between the two of them, “…are here together, then?” He asked as if he was only slightly interested in the answer, anyway.

David was sitting still and quiet beside him, clearly waiting to see what Patrick’s grand plan was going to be before he opened his mouth. Their hands were still clutched together, and Patrick felt a wave of calm and certainty when David squeezed his hand in his. 

“David is my boyfriend, so yeah. We are. We’re here together,” Patrick confirmed, unable to control the smile fighting its way onto his face. 

“Gotcha. Sorry, my man, didn’t realize.” Jake offered, before getting up from the circle, apparently having lost interest with David off the table.

“Well, now you know,” Patrick whispered to the space where he’d been sitting. 

“Patrick?” Came a small voice from behind them and  _ oh.  _

_ Oh, fuck.  _

He’d know that voice anywhere. 

He took a breath and turned around to see Rachel standing well within earshot, looking completely shattered. 

“Rachel, I…” 

Her gaze snapped to where Patrick had David’s hand in a death-grip.

_ Fuck _ . 

She spun on her heels and headed right back out the door she had just walked through at precisely the worst possible time. 

“Babe, go,” David whispered, bringing Patrick’s white knuckles to his mouth with a reassuring kiss. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he sighed, choosing to ignore the fact that the entire room was staring at him, and followed Rachel out into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell, I just about gave up on trying to figure out what words Canada spells the American way and what words they spell the rest-of-the-world way. I'm Australian, so if the colour/color realise/realize is annoying you, blame it on the pacific ocean. I genuinely can't figure it out. 
> 
> Party party part two coming tomorrow! It's Wednesday here, so maybe just take that as 24 hours from now! (It's already written so I'm not lying this time)
> 
> I do not deserve your lovely comments after another stupid-long delay between chapters, so I'll appreciate them extra hard if you grace me with your thoughts. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience, folks, we're almost there!


	11. You’re always just there, and we’re always so happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II of Mutt's house party.

David’s heart was in his throat.

Patrick and Rachel had been outside for half an hour, and he had no way of knowing what was going on.

He’d just about scoffed down every offering on the snack table in a panic, leaving him with only the bad snacks to pick at.

Stevie had stayed dutifully by his side, warning off any curious third-parties with a practiced scowl.

It was when Stevie watched as David cleared off the plate of hardboiled eggs that her sympathy seemed to beat out her hatred of sincerity. “It’ll be fine, David. He’ll be fine,” she promised.

“You don’t know that!” David barked. “You saw the look on her face.”

“No, but I know Rachel, and I know Patrick. She’s infuriatingly kind and he would do anything for the people he loves. They’ll figure it out,” she sighed, already exasperated after 30 minutes alone with David.

“He’s just so new to this. He was so nervous, he had a whole plan. I should have stopped the kiss before it happened, I should have known better,” David spiralled.

His brain had been going round and round, spiralling in a million different directions. He should have known better than to come to the party in the first place. He shouldn’t have joked about Jake’s attention; he shouldn’t have played spin the bottle; he shouldn’t have let Jake kiss him; he shouldn’t have let Patrick get so carried away. He probably shouldn’t have just eaten that plate of hardboiled eggs, either, as if he needed any more regrets for the evening. 

“Look, David, this isn’t about you. Or the fact that you’re a dude. It’s about them. They’ve been best friends since they were born, and suddenly, halfway through last year, Patrick just kind of disappeared from her life. They need to talk about it. _He _needs to talk about it and she needs to hear it. It’s not a you thing or a him thing or a gay thing it’s a _them _thing. A friend thing,” Stevie levelled.

David nodded and let his hands process that information with whatever wild gesticulations were warranted. “So what you’re saying is that she’s not out there berating my newly-out boyfriend with homophobic slurs?”

Stevie snorted. Like, _actually_snorted. “I highly doubt that. They’re probably crying and hugging and braiding friendship bracelets out of wheat.”

“Right. You know what they say, there’s no time like the middle of a friendship crisis to get crafty,” David agreed. 

“Exactly,” Stevie smirked.

David found himself smirking back at her, suddenly struck by an overwhelming wave of gratitude for the tiny brunette by his side.

“You know, you wouldn’t think it, but you’re an excellent friend. I’m happy Patrick has you,” David admitted, avoiding eye contact while he spoke because that would just be _far _too much.

David caught the the stunned silence that went on a few seconds too long for Stevie to be able to cover up.

“You should be,” she muttered. “You two would still be trying to track each other down, chasing each other in circles with your little puppy crushes if it wasn’t for me.”

“Yes, thank you for that,” David smiled.

He’d actually been meaning to think of some way to repay her for that, but what do you get someone who gave you something you never thought you’d have?

“And if anyone asks, I won’t admit it, but I’m kind of your friend, too, you know,” Stevie added quietly.

_Oh. _

What do you get someone who just _keeps on giving you __things _you never thought you’d have?

David cleared his throat (which had absolutely nothing to do with anything Stevie had just said) and surveyed the empty snack table beside them. “Well I’ve literally stress eaten all of the snacks, so I’m going to need something else to distract me from going out there. Can two friends dance? Is that okay?” He asked, offering his outstretched palm to Stevie.

“I normally only slow dance with drunk strangers at parties, and as we’ve just established, you’re no longer a stranger, but um… I can make an exception,” she offered with a smile, accepting his extended hand with her own poorly-manicured fingers.

“Okay, let’s dance.”

* * *

Stevie and David were five songs deep into a very intricate dance they’d termed the ‘sway ‘n’ judge’ – wherein they swayed together to earn their position amongst the dancers, whilst trading comments about the terrible dancing unfolding around them – when David felt a hand on his back.

“Stevie, may I cut in?” Came Patrick’s voice, tinged with a faux-posh British accent. 

Terrible accent and all, David had never felt so relieved to hear anything in his life.

“Why of course, good sir,” Faux-British Stevie replied, winking at David before leaving the two alone in the middle of the dance floor.

Patrick wasted no time scooping David against him, snaking his arms around his waist as David smoothed his hands over Patrick’s shoulders.

“Hi,” Patrick grinned, leaning up the short distance to meet their mouths together in a sickly sweet, chaste kiss.

“Hey,” David grinned back when they parted, massaging Patrick’s shoulders nervously with his fingertips. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is okay. More than okay,” he beamed.

“You were out there for a while…” David prompted.

“We had a lot to talk about. I told her everything. I was able to apologise for being a bad friend, for not trusting that all she wanted was for me to be happy. She told me I was an idiot, and that she missed me, and she asked if you make me happy,” Patrick recounted.

“Oh? And what did you say?” David asked, unable to stop the smile pushing at the corners of his mouth.

Patrick pulled David impossibly closer, pressing his lips along David’s jaw until he reached the spot just behind his ear. “I said I’ve never been happier in my life. I told her that even though I haven’t known you very long, I can’t imagine a future without you in it. You’re just - - _there_. Whenever I try to think about what the future might look like, you’re always just there, and we’re always so happy,” he whispered against David’s skin.

Literal shivers were sent shooting down David’s spine.

“Oh. Um. That’s not the worst answer, I guess,” David whispered back, tightening his arms around his boyfriend.

“No?” Patrick laughed, as the two swayed to the music.

“No,” David confirmed, taking in and letting out a deep breath. “I want that.”

“Hmm?” Patrick prodded, even though David knew full well that he’d heard him.

“What you said, I want that. With you. For us,” David whispered in the space between them that was just theirs.

“Good.”

* * *

Their perfect little bubble in the middle of the dance floor didn’t last too long, with what seemed like a queue of Patrick’s friends forming to express how happy they were for the two of them.

Ted had literally bounced up and down with excitement, pulling them both into a concerningly sweaty hug (he might actually need to seek medical attention about that). Twyla had grabbed both of their hands in hers and started crying about how beautiful love is, and how bright their auras were glowing. Even Mutt had slapped Patrick on the back with a grunt of “happy for you, man,” and a nod in David’s direction.

After every well-intentioned interruption, one of them would pull the other back against them, savouring the ability to do it now, just because they could.

They were swaying together, holding each other tightly, when Patrick pulled back just enough to bring his mouth to David’s in a slow, languid kiss. “I think this party might go down as one of the happiest nights of my life,” Patrick whispered against David’s lips. “But I’m about to fall asleep standing up,” he admitted.

“Oh, thank god. As much as I want to stay here with you forever, I ate multiple serving platters of dairy-based garbage and I really need to lie down,” David groaned.

Patrick giggled at that, bringing one of his hands around to rub gentle circles over David’s belly.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not,” David admonished, smacking Patrick’s hand away from his pudge.

“Oh, there’s Stevie and Rachel, we should go say bye,” Patrick noted, completely unfazed by David’s theatrics. He grabbed the hand that had just been swatting at him and dragged David to the corner of the room where Stevie and Rachel were leaning against the wall of the barn.

“Well look, if it isn’t Schitt Creek’s newest golden couple! The talk of the town! Rural Ontario’s sweethearts!” Stevie teased.

“Rural Ontario’s sweethearts are heading off, we just came over to say goodnight, and thank you both for everything tonight,” Patrick smiled.

“_Ew_,” David spat. “We are not encouraging any of those nickname, Patrick.”

Stevie smirked at the two of them. “Damn, I’ll have to return the matching embroidered jackets I just ordered,” she continued despite David’s dramatic gagging, “they say “I’m ½ of Schitt’s Creek’s golden couple!”

“Hey Stevie? Fuck off,” David threw back.

Both Patrick and Rachel were watching on in amusement, giggling at the antics. Rachel reached a hand out to gently tap David on the shoulder with one finger.

“Hey, David? Could I talk to you for a second?” She asked softly, gesturing off to the side of the group.

“Me? Uh, yeah, sure,” David agreed, following her over just far enough away from the others that they were no longer within earshot.

“I just wanted to apologise for running out like that earlier. I didn’t think about how that might have come across to you, I was just upset that Patrick felt like he had to keep this from me. I’ve loved him my whole life, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but he’s something special. So, thank you for making him happy. I feel like I have my friend back, and I think a lot of that has to do with you. So, um, yeah. Thank you,” she said with a sheepish smile.

David was honestly a little lost for words, which was rarer than one might think. “Oh, um, no don’t worry about it. And of course. He, um, he makes me happy, too,” David muttered.

“And David?” Rachel added carefully. “I’d really like to be friends. The way Patrick talks about you, you seem like a really great guy.”

“Oh, I - - you too. I’d like that,” David agreed.

Rachel pulled him into a tight hug, and David felt himself tense up out of habit. He made an effort to let the tension of the night drain away as he brought his arms around her to squeeze back.

“You ready to go, baby?” Patrick called over with a soft smile, watching two of his favourite people sharing a moment.

“Yep, yes. Uh, goodnight, Rachel. Thank you,” David stumbled over the words, but Rachel didn’t seem to mind, sending him off with a wave.

“See you idiots at school tomorrow!” Stevie called. “Oh and David? The embroidered jackets are bright purple, so make sure you wear something within that colour palette!” She teased.

With one arm looped tight around his boyfriend and the other up in the air, sending the finger to Stevie behind him, David decided it was a good decision to come to this stupid party after all. Upcoming stomach-aches and bright purple jackets be damned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the shortest chapter in the whole story, but it just kind of didn't need all that many words? I dunno. 
> 
> I'll make the last chapter extra long to make up for it. 
> 
> As always, your comments make my day, so please do let me know your thoughts if you have any!


	12. I kind of feel like I’m dying in a really, really good way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick celebrates their weekaversary, David eats cookies.

Patrick was laying in bed, wide awake, grinning at the ceiling like an idiot, waiting for his alarm to go off. He glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall across from the bed, beaming at the words hastily scribbled onto the highlighted box right above today’s date:  _ Meet w buddy (David) @ 8 am.  _

It had been one week since David waltzed (okay, was dragged, stumbling) into his life. 

Patrick could not imagine a version of his life without David in it. He could barely remember what life had been like before he knew him. Boring, probably. Less wonderful, definitely. 

He had never felt so right. So happy. 

Last night had been perfect in all its embarrassing absurdity. While he may have aggressively made out with David in front of the entire teenage population of Schitt’s Creek, the fact remains that he made out with David in front of the entire teenage population of Schitt’s Creek and his world didn’t implode. Rachel knew about David, his friends knew, his family knew, the town, probably, knew by now too, and it was  _ fine _ . It was great. It was right. It felt right.  _ He _ felt right _ .  _

As wonderful as the night had been, something had been bugging him since the party. Outside, in the chilly fall night, surrounded by moths and bugs that would have made David scream bloody murder, Rachel had said something like it was the easiest, simplest thing – _ you’re in love him.  _

Which, okay, Rachel could say anything and it wouldn’t necessarily mean that thing is true, but what happened next is that Patrick had opened his mouth, nodded his head, and sure as anything said:  _ yes, I am.  _

And just like that, he was. A week into knowing David and Patrick was head over heels, would-hide-a-body-for-you, stupid, crazy in love with David Rose. And he’d  _ said it. Out loud. And the world hadn’t imploded.  _

Patrick was starting to think it was a lot harder to blow up the universe than he’d been led to believe. 

With an exhale, Patrick reached out for his phone on the bedside table, because  _ surely  _ the alarm is going to go off any second now. The screen flashed on to his lock screen, a picture from last night having been freshly appointed to the background. David was grinning at the lens as Patrick laughed into his neck. They had been trying to get a cute picture of Patrick kissing David’s cheek, but he kept smiling too wide, all teeth and no lips, making David giggle, setting Patrick off even further. He had a camera roll full of outtakes that would never be deleted. Glowing in front of the photo was the current time: 6:32 am, still too early to text David. 

Right? 

_ Ah, fuck it.  _

** 6:32 am: Morning, sleepyhead. I miss you.  **

Patrick sent the text before he could overthink it, fully expecting not to hear anything back for at least another half hour. So when his phone vibrated almost immediately in his hand, it felt like winning the lottery. 

** _ David 💕 _ **

** _ 6:33 am: its the actual middle of the night  _ **

** _ 6:33 am: why r u like this  _ **

** _ 6:34 am: now i know i only have 30 mins of sweet sweet sleep left  _ **

** _ 6:34 am: ur cruel  _ **

Patrick couldn’t help but giggle at it all. He knew that if David had really wanted to keep sleeping and ignore him, he would have, and Patrick wouldn’t have blamed him. Instead, he’d woken up enough to type out not one but four messages  _ before  _ 7 am. 

Patrick felt a little bad about it. 

** 6:34 am: Sorry. Go back to sleep, I’ll see you soon x  **

That was enough, it was all he’d needed. Just a little dose of David to hold him over. 

** _ David 💕 _ **

** _ 6:35 am: i miss u too  _ **

** _ 6:35 am: i always miss u when ur not here  _ **

** _ 6:35 am: ur warm n snuggly  _ **

** _ 6:35 am: wish u were here  _ **

** _ 6:35 am: in my bed  _ **

** _ 6:35 am: w me  _ **

_ OH.  _

Yeah, okay, no,  _ that _ is all he needed. 

Patrick sat up then flopped back down against the mattress with what could  _ barely  _ be described as a squeal.

_ Play it cool, Brewer. _

** 6:36 am: Me too. You’re wasting your precious few minutes of sleep.  **

Patrick was still feeling bad about it. Not quite as bad as he had been, but still, a little bad. 

** _ David 💕 _ **

** _ 6:36 am: worth it _ **

** _ 6:37 am: can i call u ? _ **

** _ 6:37 am: wanna hear ur voice  _ **

Patrick pressed the call button faster than he’d ever done anything in his life. 

“Mmm, hi,” David grunted, voice rough from sleep. Patrick could hear his soft smile through the phone. 

“Hi,” Patrick chuckled. It was dawning on him that he may be dreaming.

“You called me,” David marvelled, a hint of wonder in it. 

“You asked me to,” Patrick smiled.  _ I’d do anything if you asked me to.  _

“No I asked if  _ I  _ could call  _ you _ ,” David corrected, ever the stickler for semantics. 

“Oh sorry, should I hang up? Let you do it the way you intended?” Patrick teased, grinning at the ceiling again like the love-struck teen he’d become. 

“No! No. Don’t go yet. Stay,” David grumbled. 

Morning David extra adorable. 

“Okay, David,” Patrick laughed. The truth was there was not a single thing on the planet that could have made him hang up, but David didn’t need to know that. Regular David doesn’t let Patrick win so easily. 

David sighed happily through the other end of the phone, and Patrick could hear the sounds of him wriggling back into his cocoon of a bed. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Patrick. The sounds of their breathing lulled together like a lullaby. 

The silence was comfortable, Patrick wanted to live in it. 

“Are you falling asleep again?” Patrick asked quietly, breaking the silence. He didn’t really know why. Maybe because he wanted to hear David’s voice again. 

There was a jostle and a grunt. “Um…no? No,” David lied. 

“It’s okay if you are. This is nice,” Patrick added. He never saw himself falling asleep on the phone with someone, but David isn’t just  _ someone  _ he’s  _ David _ . 

“Mmm, you’re nice,” David sighed sleepily. 

“So you’ve said,” Patrick chuckled quietly, trying not to break whatever spell they were under. 

“What’re you wearing?” David asked, a muffled mumbled, his face presumably pressed against the pillow. 

“David!” Patrick giggled, a little too loud for the early morning whispers they were sharing. 

‘Shhh, sorry. Sorry. I’m kidding. Kind of. Mostly. No, I am,” David giggled back. 

“Did you call me to fall asleep on me or hit on me?” Patrick asked, pretending to be scandalised, because he’d take either, both, anything and everything. 

“I actually didn’t call you, you called me,” David corrected again. 

“Ah, right,” Patrick laughed. 

The comfortable silence fell around them for a second time. Patrick briefly wondered if David was falling asleep again. 

This time David broke the silence.

“…Patrick?” David asked hesitantly, voice soft and small.

Patrick’s breath caught in his throat at the way he’d said it. It felt important. Different. “Yeah, David?”

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he whispered.

_ NEITHER HAVE I  _ Patrick wanted to scream, but he had to make sure they were talking about the same thing. 

“Like what?” Patrick probed softly. He hoped he knew. 

“Like…fuck, I don’t know. It’s  _ you.  _ I think you’ve broken me. I miss you so much, right now, I miss you right now, even though I’m talking to you and I just saw you a few hours ago and I’ll see you in like an hour and I dreamed about you all night, I still miss you so much.”

If the grip of a slightly smaller than average 15-year-old could smash an iPhone, Patrick’s phone would have been shattered into pieces over his bed. “Oh.”

_ THIS is where you tell him. Tell him now.  _

“Fuck. I’m sorry, that was weird,” David groaned. Patrick audibly, actually  _ gasped _ . Because  _ fuck _ , he’d spent too long trying to breathe through the way his heart was constricting in his chest and hadn’t said anything.

_ Can you have a heart attack from loving someone too much?? Fuck.  _

“No! No. David, no. That was - - yes. I feel that way too. All of it. You make me feel  _ so much _ . It’s, um, I’ve never felt like this before either. Never…no ones ever - - I didn’t - - I never knew. That, uh, this is what it felt like,” Patrick stumbled his way through the admission.

“I kind of feel like I’m dying in a really, really good way,” David admitted like he was sharing his deepest, darkest secret. Patrick wanted those too. 

Patrick ran his hand over his chest, laughing. He knew what he meant. 

“Do you think it ever stops feeling so…so much?” David asked carefully. 

“I don’t know. I hope not.” 

* * *

By the time he had put his foot down and forced David to get out of bed and end the phone call, Patrick was already dressed and ready for the day. He’d moved around the room like he was on cloud nine, his phone snug between his shoulder and ear, listening to David’s tangent about why blue cheese is objectively the worst cheese. Patrick didn’t really have an opinion on the topic, he’d never had a reason to try blue cheese, but he was entirely invested in it nonetheless. 

David had described, in great detail, the various dishes he’d had ruined by blue cheese, while also providing alternative cheeses for each dish that would have been the  _ correct  _ choice. All the talk about cheese had left Patrick with quite the appetite. 

In the kitchen Patrick found his parents exactly where they had been every morning for as long as he could remember, sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and chatting. As Patrick walked in, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through his senses, and he had to take a minute to pinch himself. He’d just spent 40 minutes talking to David, there were freshly baked cookies on his counter, and it wasn’t even 8 am – he  _ had  _ to be dreaming. 

“Morning sweetheart,” Marcy greeted, breaking him from his…  _ not  _ a dream, then? 

“Morning,” Patrick echoed, spaced out. He plonked down into his spot at the table, reaching out to pour some orange juice. 

“How was your night? How’s David?” Marcy asked, grabbing one of the bagels in the middle of the table and spreading a generous dollop of cream cheese over it, handing it to Patrick. 

“Thanks. And, uh, good. David’s great,” Patrick couldn’t stop the grin as he accepted the bagel. 

“Did I hear you two on the phone this morning?” She questioned with a matching smile. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you,” he was pretty sure he’d been talking fairly quietly, but it was possible the sound of his heart beating out of his chest had drowned everything else out. 

“Oh, nonsense. Your mother was onto her second batch of cookies by the time you woke up,” Clint chuckled. 

“Yes. Yes, that’s right. I made some cookies to send my favourite boys off into a new week. I thought you might want to take some for David? He mentioned his sweet tooth the other night so I added extra chocolate chips,” she explained, jumping up to check on the cookies cooling on top of the stove. 

“That sounds great Mom, thanks. He’s still raving about your pie,” Patrick laughed. 

“That boy of yours is too sweet, Patrick. You tell him I’ll make a pie for him any time. Oh sweetheart, did you want to help me decorate these before you go?” Marcy asked, voice full of hope. 

When Patrick was younger, he loved spending time in the kitchen, helping his mom. Decorating cookies was one of his favourites, mostly because he’d eat half of the icing before it ever made it to the cookies. Marcy had never minded; she’d always made extra icing to make sure there was enough. They hadn’t done it in a while. 

“Sure,” Patrick agreed, finishing off the last bite of his bagel, heading over to the cookies. 

Marcy took the tray of cooling cookies and moved it over to the counter. In a small bowl she mixed some powdered sugar with a little water and a drop of pink food colouring to make an icing, scooping it into two piping bags, handing one to Patrick. Patrick grabbed one of the cookies and attempted to pipe what was supposed to say ‘ _ One week!’ _ onto the surface. His technique left a lot to be desired, the icing hadn’t come out in a steady stream, leaving gaps and breaks in the letters. 

“Here…” Marcy offered softly, moving the cookie in front of her and expertly running over the top of Patrick’s letters, even adding a tiny heart for the dot of the exclamation mark. 

“It’s perfect,” Patrick smiled. Marcy leant over and pressed a sweet kiss to Patrick’s cheek before going back to piping icing onto the rest of her half of the cookies. 

Deciding against trying to pipe out any more letters, Patrick went in favour of drawing out wonky love hearts over the rest of the cookies he had claimed as David’s. 

“He’ll love them,” Marcy declared, beaming at both the cookies and Patrick with pride.

“Thanks, Mom,” Patrick said with a sheepish grin. He  _ would  _ love them. Patrick couldn’t wait. 

* * *

“Is this - - is it just the one? Is there a batch of these somewhere?” David asked, swallowing the half of the cookie he’d just inhaled. Taking note of Patrick’s expression, he added, “sorry. Sorry, I love it. thank you.” 

Patrick shook his head, leaning in to kiss the icing off the corner of David’s mouth.

They were in the school hallway, in front of Patrick’s locker, with people flowing past them in all directions. No one batted an eye. 

“And not that I want to encourage you to celebrate weekly anniversaries, but you do know it hasn’t actually been a week, right?” David murmured into the small space between them. 

“Hasn’t it?” Patrick whispered back, a glint in his eye. 

“….no?” David questioned, a little like what he was really questioning was Patrick’s sanity. 

Patrick looked up at David through his lashes. “What you said about feeling like you’re dying in a really, really good way? That, um, I felt that. That afternoon, when you came over. A week ago. That’s when it started, and it’s only gotten worse. Or, um, better? Better. But worse. But better. You…you get it,” Patrick muttered, confusing himself in the process. 

“How much sugar have you had this morning?” David laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss against Patrick’s lips. 

“I may have had a few cookies worth of icing… and a few cookies. But don’t worry, I saved you some extras, they’re in my bag. My mom added extra chocolate chips to the choc chip ones just for you,” Patrick smiled. 

David did not. 

A wave of panic washed over David’s features, his eyes growing comically large. “Wait, what? Why?” He squeaked.

“She said something about a sweet tooth. No idea where she could possibly have gotten that idea from, it doesn’t sound anything like you,” Patrick joked.

“Patrick, why would she do that though?” David asked, digging his fingers into Patrick’s shoulders anxiously. 

“She likes you. You wooed her,” Patrick shrugged. 

The speed with which David’s face went from sheepish to pleased to an amused horror was something else. “I  _ wooed  _ her??” He echoed. “I am  _ thrilled  _ that she likes me and truly blessed by these extra chocolate chips, but she isn’t the Brewer I’ve been trying to woo.” 

“Oh? Well my dad doesn’t bake, but I’d say he was suitably wooed,” Patrick teased. 

“Um ew, okay, not him either,” David rebuked.

“Hmm…well the only one left is me, and that can’t possibly be it because I’m pretty sure I saw you eat a brownie bite out the garbage last night,” Patrick frowned. The utter glee in his eyes gave him away. 

“Okay well, I’m not sure what you’re insinuating? That is one of my go-to moves when aiming to woo, are you suggesting it didn’t work?” David threw back with a giggle.

Patrick pulled him in for another kiss because he wanted to and he could. “It’s kind of scary how hard it would be for you to do anything that wouldn’t woo me, David.”

“Mmkay, well let's not go around saying things like that out loud where the universe can hear them,” David cautioned.

“You’re ridiculous, and I can’t get enough of you,” Patrick declared, just as the bell rang for homeroom. 

“Oh my GOD, Patrick! Stop  _ saying _ things like that, you’re tempting fate!” David grumbled. 

“I’m not going anywhere, David. Except for homeroom, but you’re coming with me, so fate shouldn’t have a chance to be tempted,” Patrick winked, reaching up to plant a kiss on David’s cheek. 

The crowd around them was thinning out as students broke off into their homerooms. Patrick reached for David’s hand to follow suit but was stopped by a hand on his chest.

“Wait,” David said, grabbing a handful of Patrick’s hoodie and squeezing. 

“ _ David,  _ we’re gonna be lat- -” David used his fistful of hoodie to push Patrick against his locker, licking into his mouth. The taste of chocolate chips and icing made it difficult for either of them to pull away, but they managed it.

“What was that for?” Patrick breathed. _ _

“Me from a week ago,” David smirked.

“Huh,” Patrick smiled. He grabbed David by the hand and led them towards homeroom, much as he had the Monday before. This time though, it didn’t matter that they were in the middle of Schitt’s Creek High, or that David was living amongst townies, or that Patrick had rehearsal at lunch – they were home. With their hands clasped together, giggling about being late for class, they were home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO HERE’S THE THING 
> 
> I tried to write I love yous into this fic SO MANY TIMES even tho it wasn’t in the plan because I WANT IT I NEED IT but it’s only been a weeeeek and I can’t do it. I cannot do it. Please don’t tell people you’ve known for a week that you’re in love with them. But especially because these two are so young, I don’t want to throw it in there like it’s nothing. 
> 
> For now we’ll all have to settle for them kind of saying it without saying it, because that’s enough when you’re 15 and you don’t know wtf is happening.
> 
> I'll probably make this part of a series so I can add some of the fun future moments (did I mention how much I need the I love yous), so do let me know if there's anything you'd want to see. 
> 
> Thank you for putting up with this and me, I can't believe we've made it. 
> 
> As Dan would say, ✌️


End file.
